Feeling the Burn

Good lord. I just picked up a free weight for the first time since, oh, 1990. Ish. I feel like little pieces of glass are in my body with pick-axes, and then coyotes are chewing away at those pieces of glass. Jesus.

Of course by Friday I’ll be HUGE and will be laid out at McCarren asking the empanada lady to spread some cocoa-butter on my 2-pack.

Back in high school we’d lift weights at 6am every morning for football. I remember our sets were based on some sort of declension; ie you’d find out your max bench press, say 250lbs and your reps would be 5 reps at 50%, 4 at 60%, 3 at 75% and so on and on. One of the many, MANY laughingstocks on our team was Jimmy. Jimmy was about 190 pounds of ranch dressing & chicken skin, nary a muscle in sight. And he was a starting lineman. Both ways. Ugh. He was also one of those pussies that insisted on covering every single inch of his body in padding; if you threw him in a river he’d prolly float. I remember his max on the bench was such that his first set of reps were...the bar. No weights, just the bar. I can still see it, I can still hear everyone laughing when I jumped up “Need a spot there, Jimbo?” and started to help him lift. While he was sitting there, the lone bar hovering above him our Coach popped his head in the room and looked around. Seeing Jimmy, one of his starting lineman, poised to bench press about the equivalent of a small dog he shook his head, muttered “jesus fucking christ” and walked back out. It’s a miracle we went 1-9 that year.

Someone offline is heckling me re: being fraid of snakes. Anything that has no arms, no legs and can still kill me I'm staying away from. So fuck. yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeewwww.