The Complex

I just got home from working out. The worker dude commented that I was in EARLY tonight... early... at eleven THIRTY p.m. Unfortunately... its true... I've become a #1 slacker. I can NOT make myself get up at 6 a.m. PLUS I am DYING (like a dog watching his owner pick a rib bone clean) to work out at night. I mean... I'm not STRESSED out at six in the morning! (EXCEPT for stressing over the fact that I have to be AWAKE that early). But at NIGHT? I've had ALL day to find nerve irritants and I am SOOO ready to GET OUT of my HOUSE and do ANYTHING!! I could probably go to WAL MART every night and run laps in the grocery isle and be just as satisfied... but that would be more expensive than going to the gym. (I tend to buy things in Wal Mart. LOTS of things).

But working out is giving me a complex. Seriously. There I am sprawled out on a medicine ball, lying on my back doing a back bend balancing on my head when some chic walks over. I continue my um... NOT exercise... Then I bounce a bit on the ball... just because its FUN. I had finished working out my legs and was feeling pretty good about it. And I was "stretching" out my legs for a "cool down" though all I did was weights NOT aerobics... but playing on the giant bouncy ball is my reward for a job well done. (or a job well ATTEMPTED. A for Effort). AnyWAY... I take a glance at the girl. She is doing a full out SPLIT across the two ab machines and then STRETCHES her body in HALF and puts her head on her FEET. I'm 99% sure the chic could lick her own toes. The chic is a scrawny looking thing so my eyes bulged out of my head when she started doing push ups in the air on the stand thing that I never knew its purpose. All the while she's doing all her crazy fit routines I'm gawking from my perch on the ball. When she walks away... probably to go do back flips in the bathroom, I decided to take a gander on the stand. I LUCKILY didn't rip my arms off... just out of their sockets. I decided I would stick with ab stuff. So I got the little wheel thing that you hold and roll across the ground. It looked like a simple procedure when Julie the Gymnast did it. Well... I got on my toes and rolled it. Then I sat up and rubbed my poor nose that got PLASTERED against the floor when the wheel kept rolling and I hadn't the strength to pull it back towards me. I was done after that. I shakily walked out on legs that were randomly jerking, arms that were hanging limp, and a BIG red nose.

I was OKAY being a weakling when I thought it was just because I was a GIRL... or just because I was SCRAWNY... BUT when girls half my size are lifting TWICE as much (well probably more like 18 times as much) and people TWICE my age... no.. twice my GRANDMA's AGE are kicking my tail... I feel a bit perturbed. So... I've vouched to myself that ONE DAY when I lift my arm sleeve... people will STARE at my MASSIVE muscles and be AFRAID! When I'm walking in a dark parking lot and a scary man is waiting to rob an unsuspecting stranger... he will take one look at me and think... "YIKES! I can't take HER... she'll kick my sorry, low life BUTT!" That is my PLAN! And its going to happen! I can already crank the push mower ALL BY MYSELF!