“You playing kickball?”
Ummmm no? No…I’m…just getting a beer…
“No. I mean. We’re having a kickball coaches meeting here. I thought you were playing. You look very athletic.”
Oh. No. I don’t. I’m not. That’s not. No. I don’t…athletic. Ever. I’m only…I’m just here for a beer. And tacos…
And. Ok. I appreciate that compliment. I like to “look” very athletic. I haven’t “looked” very athletic in some time. So I appreciate that the PlayFITStayFIT torture is starting to pay off.
But also. That inaccurate interpretation of my appearance is what led me to be pressured into playing on my company softball team. Years ago. And then, after trying and looking like an idiot. At every damn position. Immediately being benched. When they discovered that I am not. In fact. Athletic.
“Maybe you just support the team by cheering for us.”
I can sometimes manage to make my legs run. Without tripping. And I can sometimes manage to make my arms lift heavy things. Without crying.
That’s the limit of my athleticism.
But as long as I “look” athletic. Well, that means maybe I can wear some of the clothes I like again.
And I should probably be more grateful. To J-Vicious. For his obnoxiousness. In forcing heavier weights at me. And making me complete entire workouts.
But also. He gave me detention yesterday.
You ever have one of those teachers that just hates you? For no reason? And so they spend the entire school year just picking at you and punishing you and making your life miserable?
No, I never did, either. My teachers all loved me. I’m quite loveable.
And I get his need for attention. I’m a damn Leo.
And I keep rewarding his bad behavior. With these blog posts.
But y’all keep rewarding my behavior by reading them.
So here we all are. In this vicious co-dependent PlayFITStayFIT cycle.
And I told him. I can write an equally, if not more entertaining story. About him targeting someone else. Say…Fall Risk…
Or LL has to come back eventually…
“I’ll take care of that. Fall Risk, you write a blog about me targeting Sunshine.”
“Sure. I’m only going to say nice things about her, though.”
Which…now I feel kinda bad about suggesting she be the target.
But also…I’m still waiting for that blog post where she says all the nice things about me…
But anyway, I’ve also probably said how much I need someone to push me…far too many times…
So here we all are…reading the same story…over and over again.
And so I was compliant. At yesterday’s Leg Day.
Going through every one of these. Like, every damn rep. As J-V instructed me to.
And even some extras. Because my dumbass just could not retain the difference between 50 and 100.
So I definitely did a whole hella lotta more reps of some of this stuff than I should have.
Which, in any other classroom, would have gotten me extra credit. And some grace from the teacher.
But this teacher does not care.
Like, those extras should have at least gotten me a normal sized weight for the 10-freaking-minute wall sit.
“Which one do you want? The garage fit or the punching bag?”
Which one is lighter…?
I don’t know why I asked. No way he told me the truth.
And, I mean, if his ass is struggling to lift the bag. And drag it over. And throw it onto my lap.
How in hell am I supposed to sit there with it for 10 damn minutes???
I’m shaking. This can’t be ok.
“What’s the worst that could happen?”
Ummm, I could die.
“Fine. I’ll write your last blog post for you.”
Dear god, please have B-Major proofread it first.
My mother will absolutely find a way to send me a ten page lecture about spelling and grammar in the afterlife.
But I managed it. Ten minutes.
He only did 9 1/2.
That feels important to share.
So he kept just throwing each next workout at me.
Like, he was telling me which one to do next.
So it wasn’t my fault.
I was only following directions.
And even stayed after class. To finish out my hamstring curls.
I’m an excellent student! Dammit.
So as I sat down. To recover. And watch West’s Sister. In the next class. Get targeted. (Which was actually as enjoyable as I thought it would be.) Someone asked about the lateral lunges.
See. J-V never told me to do lateral lunges… Or band slides…
He completely skipped that one.
I was just following directions.
Because while I am a very compliant student. I am also not one of those suck ups that reminds the teacher that he forgot to assign us homework.
“Get up! Let’s go! You need to finish this workout!”
I did, though. My class ended ten minutes ago. I’m only here because it’s podcast night and I can’t go all the way back home first and-
“Get up. Now. Let’s go.”
I hate that damn teacher voice.
“You don’t need your watch for this.”
Oh no. I’m getting credit for every last second of this.
So that’s why this…
But damn if I didn’t show up to podcast night. And AD tell me how good I look.
So many conflicted feelings.
But it’s fine. Because next week is taper week. For Leadville.
So no gym days next week.
Although I may just go and watch. And write about the torture of others. From a journalist’s perspective.
That seems fun.
Also. If GJB manages to edit and release last night’s podcast episode soon. You should absolutely listen. We had some really exceptional humans on there. And I’m so excited about the stuff they’re doing in our community.
Now I gotta go emotionally prepare myself for arm day.