Friday Night Fitness

I slept in this morning.

Felt amazing.

My body needed it, too.

On account of the gym. Last night. A Friday night.

I don’t go to the gym on a Friday night.

I’ve got better things to do on a Friday night.

(The new Mandalorian episodes are released on Fridays. And I don’t wanna hear a single hint of judgement about this. I do epic shit on other days. Besides, y’all are watching this, right?)

But yesterday morning, this

This is what happens when you’re not dating.

You end up at the gym on a Friday night. (Or sitting in a parking lot with tissues shoved up your nose while you wait for your child. I’m not saying that one of us did that. But it does sound like us…)

And we’re all clear now that I’m not dating, right? I’m not dating the dude that was in my profile pic last week? The dude that is my father. I’m not dating my…

Never mind.

Just stop asking me that.

Anyway, I ended up at PlayFITStayFIT last night. When I should have been out dating someone who is not related to me. Like a normal person.

I was gonna just sit in the parking lot until Fall Risk got there. To ensure that I would not be the only one that showed up. But as I sat there threatening her about how much I would lose my shit if no one else showed up and as I was about to tell her I’d just leave if I didn’t see her car in the next 5 minutes, I saw a little gremlin-looking thing creeping towards my car.

I assume trying to sneak up. And frighten me.

*sigh*

I mean, he’s little, but he’s also obnoxious.

Dude. I can see you.

Fine.

I’ll come inside.

Once Fall Risk finally did show, in full winter gear, J-Vicious suggested maybe we all just go for beer and tacos. Except he’s practically a girl and insisted on margaritas instead.

But then LL showed up. And somehow that took the option of drinks instead of working out off the table?

But she doesn’t even have her kids with her!

And then here comes Pure Romance. Who, for the record, is the only reason I’m even maintaining in life right now. And she did have a child with her.

So, fine. Apparently we’re all just gonna workout now.

I mean, Fall Risk didn’t seem entirely committed as J-V was explaining the workout.

But she took that coat off eventually.

And J-V had, like, ten sets of three exercises written on that damn white board. And he threw some math at us about the total number of each we’d end up doing. Because we had to pick a set to start with. And do ten reps of each exercise in that set. And then repeat. Counting down. Ten ten ten. Then nine nine nine. Then eight eight eight. Then seven seven seven. Then six six…

Question.

How many of each will I end up doing when I skip over the sixes? Because that’s the devil’s number.

He wouldn’t answer. Because I think that math was too much for him. But I’m gonna say it was somewhere around 5,386.

Which is a lot of kettle bell swings. And ball slams. And upright rows.

So you can see why it would take me a solid 22 minutes to get through my first set of exercises.

And I don’t know why he was yelling at me, because LL spent the first set doing the same exercise. The whole time. And not the other two that she was supposed to be doing.

The second set may have taken me a tad longer. Because I had to find appropriate weights.

I like to be safe in the gym.

Plus I had to update the gym calendar. With events and such.

Set up a blogging schedule for him. Because apparently writing isn’t everyone’s favorite.

So, I don’t know why he was getting so exasperated with me.

I’m just trying to help you with your business!

And LL and Pure Romance are just over there staring at the board. Again.

And have you not noticed that Fall Risk has just been standing there? Holding a set of weights? For the last 12 minutes?

Dude, she’s not even moving her hands.

At least I’m trying to be productive. And turn on the fan and shit.

Look, I’m not even supposed to be here. It’s Friday night. I’m supposed to be out socialling and shit. I mean, lying on my couch. In sweatpants. With beer. And tacos. Watching the second Mandalorian episode.

But instead, I’m here. Putting in work. Kind of.

At the end, Fall Risk asked if we were still going for tacos.

Um, obviously.

Fifty minutes. I got in maybe two full sets of exercises in fifty minutes. (Because I’ma be real, I wasn’t actually counting any of them.)

But really, isn’t any exercise better than no exercise?

And I was only really in it for the beer and tacos anyway.

We’re gonna be so ready for Spartan next weekend…

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