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September 2009

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Miles

admnaismith in fitzilla

I'm getting tired of calling the thump-and-gasp class "girly exercises". Henceforth, I will refer to any full-body workout that emphasizes core muscles and aerobic conditioning as "Elvish exercise", and macho training that emphasizes learning to bench press your buick and eat glass as "Dwarven exercise". Most Asian martial arts are Elvish; boxing and fighting with explosives are Dwarven. So. There.

I mention this because the normal trainer at heave-and-sweat is a friendly lassie with a healthy farmer's daughter body, who smiles a lot and encourages people to believe that self-torturing one's way to health is fun. This time, however, she was absent, and we had a spandex-clad ELF.

She was about five feet tall and breathtakingly beautiful, with ice-blue eyes that looked like they could see through you, and gymnast muscles that rippled and bulged whenever she moved. I may have imagined the bit where the fly landed on her shoulder and instead of brushing it off, she just twitched her left shoulder without looking, but not by much. The usual mat, stability ball and dumbells on the floor had been supplanted by a frightening array of medicine balls, playground balls, floppy cylinder-discs, big colored rubberbands, stair risers, climbing pitons, potato sacks, rubber chickens, dental tools, handcuffs, jumper cables, raw eggs and a couple of half-frozen sides of beef hanging from the back wall.

"Brother", I whispered to myself, "You are in bad, bad trouble."

My God. This girl was held together by wires. She had us do set after set of abdominal crunches, without her legs, her back, or even her butt touching the mat. That's right, just sort of levitated in the air. At least that's how it looked to me. Then we had to wrap the rubber bands around our legs and do the penguin shuffle-hop-step up and down the floor. Somehow, I ended up suspended from the ceiling with the rubber bands around my head. The rest of the class was spent on autopilot.

At least this time, I managed to get through the whole thing without having to drop out while a group of super-powered ladies tut-tutted and wondered if I needed medical attention. On the other hand, I pretty much cheated during the last half of the set, doing the push ups, er, "Elvish" style, on my knees. I think I pulled something in my back, just trying to sit up.

I'm not an Elf. I'm an Elvish Impersonator.

Comments

Ha!

Suddenly I want to do all of my weight training exercises with an two handed axe!

Certainly lunges would be more effective with armor... perhaps I can get someone to pretend to be an orc. Or a zombie... that would motivate me to no end.

Thanks for the post... made me laugh!