She said, You're strange, but don't change, and I let her.
In a while will the smile on my face turn to plaster?
Stick around while the clown who is sick does the trick of disaster
For the race of my head and my face is moving much faster
Is it strange I should change? I don't know, why don't you ask her? - Mr. Soul
I did not do a bike ride last night. Tomorrow night my wife and I are going out to a nice dinner to belatedly celebrate our 19th anniversary. My wife is really cute when she buries her head in her hands and asks, "Has it really been that long?!"
I overslept today but still went into the gym and caught all the cool people there, like McBeal, ponyTail and goodMood. IronMan is still a no show, protesting some political cause probably.
All thoughts of IronMan drop away when I gaze on this wonder.
A Cruel Tease
One of the spinners is in but of no use to me now. McBeal is on an elliptical which is odd and I half question my reality as I head over to the new SciFit Pro 1 upper body ergometer to see what it can do for my HR/calorie burn. I mess around with it for about five minutes while deciding if I'm at all interested in entering the gym's 2010 Indoor Triathlon. One of the events is 10 minute swim (using the new SciFit Pro 1 upper body ergometer). Maybe, but I'm not in the mood for ergometers today.
I'm pretty jazzed because I plan to weigh in after five days of 'suck.' I expect weight loss, but how much? Three pounds? Five? In the spirit of ending this on a good note I opt for intervals on the bike for twenty minutes, alternating one minute of work and rest.
About two minutes in I notice that I left my water bottle over by the distracting ergometer. I bemoan my fate and goodMood offers to get it but McBeal is closer so she saunters out to fetch the thing. Walking towards me, rocking the bottle in her left hand she says, "It's warm, bleh" and makes a face before handing me the bottle.
I'm already disoriented and somewhat slightly lost in this hellish, thigh crushing routine. Work, rest - doesn't matter, it's all becoming the same when ponyTail goes all 'mom' on me.
"What do we say Bill?"
She's a blur, I have my glasses off and sweat is freely rolling into my eyes. I'm thinking, "What do we say about WHAT ponyTail?! I like to 'Move it, move it'? Cuz that's the song currently blasting into my head through these earbuds." I sorta hear the words 'thank you' through the music and anaerobic haze and glance over at McBeal.
She's sadly shaking her head no and looking positively suicidal over Bill's lack of manners. Over in her section of the gym society is still in play and there are things called rules, manners and order. Over where I'm currently existing it's gone Lord of Flies and it's all about the next breath while trying to keep this cadence above 110 on level 12 baby. It's hard, so very hard.
But before my frontal lobes totally collapse and I'm engulfed in the Id of music rhythm and need for air I manage to gasp out, "THANK YOU ALLY!!!" and take a swig of water in salute. It is warm. Bleh.
McBeal visibly brightens, her faith in all that is good restored. No thoughts of suicide now. She will live another day which is a great thing unless she's litigating your ass into the ground, and that's still great since it's not me. So those of you who've wronged Ally, BITE ME!
ponyTail is still asking/mentioning/talking about something but I'm pretty stoned on this exercise crap now and like a dog I'm watching her lips move, unsure of what she's saying while trying to judge her tone. Her tone seems amused so I'm not concerned about her braining me with a medicine ball.
I sink into the workout.
I come out of it, wipe the machine down, stagger around like a drunk and get the bright idea that it would be just peachy to have my picture taken snuggling the Spinner box. This is a great day! Looking exasperated ponyTail succumbs to my begging and decides to take my picture with my latest darling! I offer to lick the box but ponyTail winces and mentions that's probably not a good idea.
She hands me the iPhone and I look at the picture. I look like a fat whale. Gawd, am I really that hideously flabby? Really? REALLY??! But I've been working out... Since I'm certain you rat bastards want to judge for yourselves here ya go:
Feeling pretty gosh darned good about the day and wanting to see the fruits of my five days of labor I head to the locker room to shower and weigh in.
I nervously stand before that queen of all bitches The Scale and exhale before stepping on it. I clearly recall my starting weight of 217lbs and begin sliding the counterweight down to a new reality...
216
I... see...Rise of the Apostate Bill
Bitterness rises like bile and flows through my psyche. I have played by the rules this time, not eating to excess, doing daily double workouts to the point it caused unneeded stress at home... actually trying very hard in the gym...
Smirking, I step off the scale wondering if it was worth it.
Nope.
The Apostate Bill Dives into a Sea of Death Donuts
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