Well, as you know, I spend almost every day at the gym. (For the record, I didn't go yesterday.) I'd like to confirm something real quick that I may not have mentioned before: Back in December, we were out in Texas, doing a Christmas tour of dear family and friends. By Christmas tour, I mean, we drive down there, let our kids get out of the car, and grace everyone with how amazingly smart, cute, AND funny our children are. Some get it and oblige us, others totally miss it. And we laugh at those people all the way back home. I was a bit disappointed to find that half my family does not even read this very enlightening and educational blog. As much as I discovered those crazies don't read my literature, later, I was pleasantly surprised to learn that one of the family friends, did indeed, read it. However, now, he sees me in person, and is a bit perplexed:
"I read your blog. It's good."
Me, flattered and not even seeing it coming: "Oh, thanks! It's fun. I'm glad you read it and like it!"
The reply comes with a bit of a glance of my ever-binging holiday food body.Given, my "holiday" binge (I have to label my binges because there are many) starts in October when the kids bring me candy and the binge concludes right about New Year's resolution time...I like to keep it consistent. So, he says questioningly while giving me that once-over...stopping to take in the thick layer of winter fat on my hips, eyes widening :"Yeah, you talk about the gym a lot. Do you really work out that much?"
I had to suppress the laughter because I knew exactly where he was coming from. But I didn't want to own up that I was, again, uh.....big-boned. That would ensue the beginning of a twelve-step program, because the first step to recovery is admitting I have a problem. And indeed, I had 2 1/2 weeks of the holiday binge before I was even considering recovery of any sort. So, I just said what was the truth, "Well, I go to the gym a lot. And on occasion, I get a work out in."
Mind you, I'm a Texan, living in Omaha. It's December, and my only motivation to go to the gym is my beloved steam room. There, I can hide in the steam, and it takes me about 30 minutes for my feet to warm up to normal temperature. So, you see, I'm getting my sweat on, I'm just not working out.
Fast forward to this week, and Mamma's got something to say, again, about the gym. I'm actually, working out with Julz(holla!), with weights intertwined with cardio (we're both looking pretty good), thanks to Lori. God Bless Her. And while we're taking a lap in the midst of our sweat shirt, we run right by, what I consider, well, fine, I'll say it, A ROMAN GOD. The man was chiseled and beautiful. I say this openly, only because I've discussed this with Ricardo. He knows exactly who I'm talking about. He's okay with it. Hey, if he sees some broad in the gym as comparatively artistic and biologically engineered to such perfection, I not only encourage him to share it with me, I expect it. The thing is, this boy is tall. Extremely tall. And it's rare for extremely tall boys like that to be THAT sculpted and well, RomanGodesque. Seriously y'all, it's like he walked right out of The Colosseum. Julz(holla!) and I have named him Ike Andee. I'll let you figure that one out. We got a good giggle at what he was wearing, I'm sure neither of us have any clue about gym fashion. Julz(holla!) wears sequins, and well, I buy only the best three pack tank tops I can find at WallyWorld. So, you know, we have no room to judge, but the best way to describe the shirt is a shirtthong. It was cut just so that it dropped between his nipples. Yep, I said nipples folks. It was a shirtthong. Go to a gym, and you'll see the kids wearing them, mostly boys, I hope. The only critique we have on this item is thank you for the view of your perfect pectorals, and why even bother wearing a shirt? There must be some rule or something.
It turns out, that when the kids aren't on their mark, the gym is the best place to go for material...uh, I mean a work out Even moreso, now I have a girlfriend. And even BETTER, she's my online girlfriend. We're working out together, with our trainer, and really, it's working. So, see, I'm in recovery (again). I'll be in perfect swimsuit shape, and when Halloween hits, I'll probably start the holiday binge all over, but this time, I'll be armed with a trainer, Ike Andee, and my online girlfriend to motivate me and share it all with.
That's how I roll...at the gym.
