Tuesday, January 19, 2010

irony of it all

Honey, this working out this is damn near killin' me. At the gym today this white lady asked me, "how is your resting heart rate?" I said, "it's the best part of my whole damn day, honey." The gym is over-run with the ladies that wear make-up to work out and clothes that match. When I go to the gym it's like the movie Precious, if Precious were set in the YMCA. So, I did my machine and listened to my workout friend squawk about her addiction to soy latte teas or something of that nevermind. I like Diet Coke and Snickers bars, together or apart. That is my addiction, not a $5 coffee. Then I did some ridiculous rope machine. I was climbing a rope- but not really. I was sitting down and climbing a rope that rotates around this machine. The irony of it all- we run standing in place, we climb rope but we aren't goin' anywhere. Just makes you think what happens with all that mis-placed spent energy? I guess all these muscles are really just for show and not for street use. My body is like the sad, famed Pontiac Fiero- it is supposed to look all sporty and hot but underneath the clothing, it's just a golf cart.

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