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Throwing Iron Around

Dearest Gym,

Tonight you and I shall be reunited. I know, it’s been some time since I’ve stepped foot into your dimly lit and overly mirrored areas, but I’m pretty excited to let these pythons out of their cage. Snake alert.

Hopefully while I’m there I’ll be getting my swoll on and getting jacked up on protein shakes with some meatballs. Not to be cliche but I wanna be like Fergie, find me at the gym workin’ on my fitness. Time to get back up on that spin bike to find myself dripping sweat all over after the short time period of 15 minutes.

I can only hope the usuals are there. The one guy who wears the muscle T that was a homemade craft project gone awry when he tried to cut it into a v-neck. The three high school boys who probably together weigh the grand total of 150 pounds and repeatedly bench press the bar and remind me of Justin Bieber. The guy in the pool who likes to share a lane with me and then creeps closer and closer while we are swimming so I end up punching him in the head with my graceful strokes and feel terrible.

I can’t wait to be so out of breath and so thirsty to only taste your warmish water on my lips. I can’t wait to see the little cheerleader pumping away on the elliptical, chewing gum, talking on her cell phone and reading the latest US. The one guy on the treadmill that will be on when I get there and still there when I leave, not even looking like he’s emitting any effort. The cute grandpa who takes the little 8 pound weights and does some arm curls as his glasses fog up.

We shall be reunited and I can’t wait until I feel the baby muscles in my t-rex arms shaking since they haven’t done much but raise the fork to my mouth lately.

Time to let the She Wolf out of the closet. And you know what comes after a She Wolf? Bathing Suits. UGH!


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