Ladies don’t sweat – they glow, and gentlemen perspire.
Oh yes? Not in our gym they don’t.
I was going on a nice forest walk on the treadmill the other day when a rather rotund lady of about 60 walked into the gym. I was a bit surprised to she she was in street clothes and wearing crocs on her feet but who am I to judge?
She went on to the bike and proceeded to pedal like mad. What happened to a gentle warm up? Within a couple of minutes her face had turned puce and she was sweating profusely. ‘Crikey, she’s going for it’. I thought.
Next she went over to the weights, picked up the heaviest ones she was able to actually lift and proceeded to grunt, groan and sweat all over the place. I could hear her over my ipod. It sounded a bit like ‘Ooooh babyyyyyyyygrunt , give me your gruntbodyyyyy’ ( ok, that last bit was a lie – I don’t listen to music with with cheesy lyrics like that, it’s more like RRAAAAAAARRRRRRR!!!!). Sweat was flying off in all directions but she kept going, by this time her face had turned purple.
She staggered over to the cross trainer and went hell for leather on it. Grunt, grunt, snort, groan, splash, OOHHH!!!. She was going like crazy on it, so much so that it was rocking from side to side! The OOHHH! was when she, and I, thought it was going to tip over!! Bloody hell! These are big heavy machines. I was on the rowing machine by this time, watching her with a mixture of amusement and a slight feeling of dread that she was going to have a stroke at any moment. Judging by the colour of her face it was imminent.
Her imminent demise was prevented by the arrival of a young, perfectly formed and very good looking black man. “Hello!” I could hear her thinking, her eyes lit up as he started pumping iron. I of course was too engrossed in my own exercise to notice this young, perfect specimen of manhood’s muscles rippling under his very tight vest or the way the light caught his muscles as they flexed under the strain of lifting the 15 kilo weights. (hang on a minute – I just need to open a window).
She attempted to sashay across to him, face streaming with sweat, almost blue by now. It was a good attempt at a sashay but what actually happened was that she weaved across the floor, unable to walk in a straight line as her legs were trying to buckle underneath her, whether that was due to the young man or the exertion I’m not sure but it sure was funny to watch.
“Hello. Do you know what you’re doing with these weights” (flutter flutter).
“yes I do.” (lift lift)
“Would you be so kind as to show me how to use them?” (touches his arm gently)
“Er, um, yes? ” (Sigh)
Hehehee. Result! You old minx!