
Sometimes I worry that I am the character Brad Pitt will be playing in the upcoming film Burn After Reading. Granted I need to lose a lot of weight and overhaul my face to look like him but … that goofy temperament altered by an iPod? ::: sucking air through my teeth ::: yeah … that could be little bit of me.
Now, thankfully I lost that hair style a few years ago. ::: whew :::
I really like my iPod and will admit to catching myself jammin’ out to Mary J. Blige’s hit Just Fine a little too vigorously while on the elliptical machine.
It’s just simply the best song *ever* for cardio. Getting swept up in music is the only way I can get through cardio.
Yesterday, I went to work out and was doing upper back and biceps. I went over to the free weight area, because ::: swaggering ::: that’s where all the big dog’s in the gym go to work out their guns. This is what it looked like (please allow for a *tad* bit of embellishment):
To my left there was a nine foot black man in a BRIGHT ORANGE tank top and short dreads. He was shoulder pressing dumb bells that were bigger than most people’s first home. Next to him was Ken, a.k.a. Mr. Ken Doll, who looked like a Norwegian god doing bicep curls with two small cars. Ken was wearing BRIGHT GREEN t-shirt. The contrast between his and Mr. Dreads ORANGE shirt was starting to cause a migraine. So I looked to my right and saw Bionic Barbie chest pressing dumb bells I am not even sure I could lift off of the rack. Was she wearing pink? You betchya’. However, it wasn’t fluorescent like Dreads and Ken.
Now, I am only making part of the following up. I stood there in all black, sweating profusely, looking a little pasty because I was near the end of my weight training for the day. I didn’t even notice everything around me until I saw that I was mouthing all the words to Fergilicious out loud, “…my body stay vicious. I be up in da’ gym jus’ workin’ on my fitness…” Which also brought an awareness that my bicep curls of 25 lbs was causing the exact same anguished look on my face as I noticed on all the other Wonder Kids around me. It was in that moment I knew I was running with the Big Dog’s.
::: happy :::
Ok… I wasn’t making up the pasty skinned, wet with sweat, dressed in all black thing. I was lifting a little more weight than 25 lbs and I wasn’t really mouthing all the words to Fergilicious. I think I was actually lip synching all the words to a One Republic song or something. But the point is I am not Mr. Olympian and it doesn’t matter. After a lifetime of being overweight, I have yo-yo’d in weight-wise in the past few years. There are different reasons for that (read: lotsastress + Ireallyreallylovefood = Fat Randy).
Regardless, I am content today and very happy to be back into an exercise routine. I am not Mr. Olympian but … in Christ (truly, not just saying it) I feel like a Wonder Kid regardless of outward appearances. It’s this inner understanding that brings the strength of personal security and overall contentment.
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