Even though I have the blessed curse of obtaining the big “O” on the treadmill and a few other various and assorted pieces of equipment I still don’t really enjoy working out. If I’m going to be satisfied I’d rather it be somewhere where I can take a nap right after.
I watched a man scream a scream of horror and manliness today at the gym as he dead lifted. We’re talking screaming. Like “Oh my gah is he being stabbed slowly with the blunt end of a spatula?” screaming. By his fourth rep the entire population of Marion County was staring in his direction.
He then proceeded to dry heave into a garbage can.
Ah, the Y.
After I finished my sentence on the stairs that appear as if from nowhere I went to
suffer through enjoy a nice round of free weights. That is until I realized the only place left to be in that area was near Mr. Dry Heave’s trashcan o’ hurl.
I do enjoy feeling healthy, strong and not having to worry about muffins pouring out of my jeans. But it’s not worth it to take it to the extent of vomit, colonics, screaming and dry heaving.
Even though apparently all the cool kids are doing it.