March 26, 2007

Confession: I'm Out of Shape

On days like today, it's hard to believe that I've run a marathon. Which I have. Freaking slowly, but I've done it. Granted it's been four years since said marathon, but still...

Part of the efforts to beat back the blues has included joining the sad little drones who go to the gym to condition their bodies. On principal, I'm conflicted by this because you shouldn't have to do that if you live well and use your body. Walk instead of using the car where you can. Find opportunities to help someone dig a ditch, go out dancing, washing your own damned car, normal stuff like that. These things don't really happen because we spend our time on our rumps driving computers and hire illegal immigrants to handle the heavy lifting. Real world physical effort makes for better looking and better conditioned bodies than the freakish bulging of a gym rat's body with particular emphasis on their obsession spots. Pectoral muscles that can break open walnuts being paraded around on spindly little sticks of legs. It's disgusting. But until I manage to get off my ever inflating booty and applying myself to doing some heavy lifting in the real world, I'm counting myself in with the drones running in place at the gym.

As a side note in defense of the gym, in my early 20's I worked out there a lot and as I was maxing out on a pec-deck machine, an orgasm slipped out. Right there in the middle of a crowded gym. I was sweaty and flushed from exercise anyhow, so it was easy to play off, but how cool is that!

The point of all this blathering on about working out is that I met with my personal trainer this weekend. He's a strapping young ex-Marine and he worked me over hard, so much so that I'm having a difficult time walking straight. Out of context, being worked over hard by a strapping young ex-Marine leaving me walking funny would be a gleaming badge of honor. But alas, in this case, it's just a mark of my shame. Tonight after work, the ex-Marine will have another go at me and on shaky legs I'll amble to my car and wait for the inevitable pain to take me once again. Sometimes pain is good for you. So I'm told. I'm inflicting pain upon my body in an effort to keep it out of my mind. The irony hasn't escaped me.

8 comments:

Old Knudsen said...

The chances of me getting caught out having a climax in public is about 85% you weemen have it so easy.

Pah Marines!

Eddie Waring said...

Drop and give me 10 young lady.

Art said...

It's good that you're trying to get into shape. I'm trying too as I approach the big 4-0:(

I do think you gals have such an advantage in the public orgasm department though... trusting that I need not elaborate;) Not that I have any experience in that subject. (cough)

Fresh Hell said...

Old Knudsen: Tall price for that Y-chromosome, eh?

Eddie: Did you mean drop my pants and give you 10 dollars?... I get so confused.

Art: See Old Knudsen's response. Thanks for popping by!

Eddie Waring said...

Not really, but now you mention it.... I would have taken $5. Shit, a cheap bottle of wine and I'm anybody's.

Fresh Hell said...

Eddie, You cheap whore!

Jocelyn said...

You just luuurve that pec machine, eh?

I exercise daily, but only sometimes at the gym. Getting out on trails is a big sustainer for me--running and such amongst the trees. And I recently read (in some anonymous but hugely respectable magazine, I'm sure) that modern folks burn off 1500 calories fewer each day than people a hundredish years ago, due to all our time/labor-saving devices. Even with walking when we can, vacuuming, etc., our bodies aren't naturally being challenged like they were designed to be. So artificially-induced movement seems a fair reaction.

Old Knudsen said...

Just drink a lot and be happy with yerself thats my advice on exercise.