Endurance is a beautiful thing.
My knees are doing okay, considering the mileage, but they could use a little more support, which is why I decided to bite the bullet and add weight training to ye old fitness regimen. As I’ve mentioned before, despite my feeble looking muscles, I am actually a reasonably strong person. As one trainer at the Y kindly pointed out to the guy who followed me on the quad press, “That girl before you was lifting more weight than you, man.”
But you know what they say about pride.
"Pride goeth before the thigh machines."
OH MY GOD.
I was mortified.
And blushing! (And giggling to myself.) And feeling like any second, someone was going to walk up waving either a speculum or a $5 bill to tuck into the waistband of my shorts.
The whole thing was just wrong.
And you know me. I don’t like to just blush in silence. I prefer to draw attention to That Which is Totally Ridiculous. So the whole time I was looking around (curiously, none of the men in the vicinity seemed to be making eye contact) for an opportunity to say something along the lines of, THERE GOES THE CHRISTIAN FAMILY ATMOSPHERE!
I guess I’m glad I never got that opportunity, but … God.
The thigh machines.