I can’t fully extend my arms.
I keep trying to. Like, I keep practicing straightening them and then holding them straight for as long as I can before I let them bend again.
This isn’t something that a healthy forty-something should have to practice. Straight arms should be a pretty basic move at my age.
See, the problem is I’ve got these friends. We’ll go ahead and call them that.
They insist on doing hard things. Things that make you appreciate being able to straighten your arms, for example. You really shouldn’t take that skill for granted.
After two morning PlayFITStayFIT Full Body Boot Camp HIIT workouts with Tiny Brazilian and one Upper Body HIIT workout with Muscular White Gut this week, it only made sense to cap it off with a Body Pump class at Westlake Carilion Wellness with Beautiful Beasty.
There’s a reason she looks the way she does and can run up the side of a pure vertical mountain climb without pansy sticks.
Body Pump is no joke.
It’s particularly unfunny when you’ve already spent the week working your body into resentment.
Rogue and I were almost the last to show up. So K-Rob-D and Tiny Brazilian took the liberty of setting up our stations for us. Front and center. Complete with heavy weights. Because they apparently don’t value our friendship.
Thankfully, Finn’s dad came in last to distract them while Mr. Beasty showed Rogue and I how to remove the weights from our bars.
In the Body Pump classroom, there is a mirror wall. So you can check your form. And your make up. While you workout.
Remember when Dr. Rich gave me the Not Horrible Diagnosis? Turns out he was absolutely correct when he told me I’m crooked. My right shoulder is drastically higher than my left. I look like a damn hunchback.
So sexy.
Maybe someday somebody will tell me how the hell to fix it.
Until then, maybe I just won’t date.
The mirror also allows you to see what everyone else is doing. What kind of weights everyone else is using.
We had to remind Tiny Brazilian several times that this wasn’t her class so stop pressuring us to use heavier weights.
Luckily, Beautiful Beasty has a microphone to drowned out sounds like Tiny Brazilian or Rogue moans or Street Legal whines. (That’s me. I’m Street Legal. I’m the whiner.)
Tiny Brazilian wants a microphone now.
That can’t happen.
That can’t ever happen.
Lord please don’t ever let that happen.
Muscular White Gut, please don’t ever make PlayFITStayFIT microphone capable.
Because I have no issue just quitting fitness and spending my downtime eating my stress in potato chips.
(Please don’t make me do that. I do actually have an issue with it. I like being able to run…)
And in the middle of all of this, Beautiful Beasty is gonna use phrases like “drop and stop.” And while that may sound fun in the club, it makes you want to throat punch her in the gym.
Except you can’t. Because you can’t work your arms anymore.
And even if you could, she could definitely take you.
Because Body Pump.
I agreed to this event because of promises of hot tub and pool time.
And it was worth it.
I mean, the workout was amazing. And effective. And hard as hell.
But the hot tub time…
The hot tub time made my body like me again. The hot tub time reminded me that there are good people in the world. Like the people that make hot tubs. Hot tub time made Tiny Brazilian and I friends again.
And the pool reminded me that I should probably work on my swimming again so I don’t drown this summer.
When I got out of the pool, my entire body felt like a giant lead weight.
Beautiful Beasty tried to distract me with made up words like vasodilation, but I know. She did this to me. She and that damn Tiny Brazilian and the Muscular White Gut. They’ve all teamed up to hammer my body into shape.
And they are. Because I was checking out my arms in that giant make up mirror and damn. Those bitches are gonna get me up the Spartan rope this year. I mean, they’re probably never gonna speak to me again, but they’re gonna handle the hell out of those monkey bars.
Maybe.
I’m probably gonna need more than just this one week to really make that happen.
But I’m only one more college tuition payment away from being able to get to these classes as much as I want to.
Then I’ll just have my body to convince. And she’s so used to being ignored, she doesn’t really even try to talk me out of things anymore.
Tomorrow I’ve been promised a nice, short, relaxing hike at AOF.
So, I’ve got that 20 mile run to look forward to…
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