Manfriend and I have a bet going.
Here's some background:
When I went to Asia this summer I was still dealing with my reflux issues and, consequently, ate next to nothing for five weeks. I lost 8 pounds. Pretty awesome if I was trying to lose weight. Mostly, I was just trying not to get sick. Which didn't quite work.
But I digress.
When I got home from Asia, and, I'm happy to share, until this day, I felt much better. So for two weeks in June, beginning the moment I stepped back into 5585 Bannergate, I ate everything. No exaggeration, people. EVERYTHING.
I out-ate both my father and homeboy that night. So after I lost my 8 pounds in five weeks, I gained 15 in the next 3. Remember that time you thought I was exaggerating when I said I ate everything? Take it back.
Manfriend also reached his all-time high this summer and we made a group decision that we were both fat. And hence the bet was conceived.
Now we don't have to get into the details of said bet, all you need to know is that I'm at the gym at least four times a week. And if I didn't have my built-in elliptical TV or trusty iPod, I would still be entertained.
"Why?" you might ask. Because of the people that go to the gym. Let me describe them to you. And yes, I have seen all of these people with my own eyes.
The Skinny Mini: You work out way too much. Stop, because your friends are worried about you. But really. Stop.
The Hollywood Dreamer: You don't realize that while you can hear the music coming out of your headphones, everyone around you can't. Your high pitched exclamation of "PAPA-PAPARAZZI" does not go unnoticed. The people around you try to not laugh, even though they can hear you over their own music. Keep up the good work, rockstar.
The Screech: You're a man, and you're trying to bulk up. You weigh less than me. You have glasses and don't change the weight on the machines after I get off them and you get on. You wear a wife-beater to look like the other guys in the gym, but it is a poor, poor decision.
The Marathoner: When I come into the gym, you are on the treadmill. After my 30 minutes of elliptical, you remain on the treadmill. After my twenty minutes of weights and machines, you are still on the treadmill. As I stretch, I stare at your legs and wonder if they are real. Cause you are still on the treadmill. I would not be surprised if tomorrow, when I return, you are still on the treadmill.
The Awkward Dresser: You are wearing jeans. Or sweat pants. Or flip flops. Or a nice sweater. Your hair is down. You are most likely Asian. And I wonder why you don't look at the other 30 people in the gym and take some pointers.
The Jealousy-inciter: You have a KILLER body. You wear tight little spandex shorts and a top that leaves two inches of perfectly toned stomach exposed. Your thighs don't touch when you walk. You don't even need the skinny arm. You are what the rest of us are working towards.
The First-Timer: We've all been you, so no offense, just own it. You get on the elliptical only to be kicked off by the person that knew to sign up for it at the front desk. You give up after one set of free weights when you realize you're half as strong as you imagined. You don't change any settings on the weight machines and find yourself attempting to leg press 480 lbs.
The Freshman: You try your hardest to look cute. Your ponytail is awkwardly high on your head and it swishes as you run. You watch Hannah Montana on the treadmill because you and Miley are the same age and you feel like you grew up together. Your socks match your Nike Tempo shorts. Your iPod is pink.
The Ancient Gem: You are an old decrepit lady, and I have seen you multiple times at the gym. For pushin' 130, you are jacked. I am so darn proud of you. You go, girl.
And my most favorite of all,
The Situation: You think you look like him, or maybe you do. You are most likely ripped and wear tight shirts with the sleeves cut off so you can see your muscles bulging as you lift. You must max out every exercise you do everyday to prove your manliness. As you lay down ready to bench you close your eyes to prepare for the feat ahead. You make extremely awkward, somewhat suggestive noises as you lift. Occasionally you change it up and make "tssssss" noises as you let the weight go. Your face contorts in ways I never could have imagined possible. You, my friend, win the award for Most Entertaining.
No comments:
Post a Comment