Friday, 12 November 2010

Push! Push! Wait, I Can See The Meathead

I love people-watching.  Today I have observed scenes akin to a woman being helped through a difficult labour by a doula, where I hear you ask?  In the Meathead area of my gym. 

The grunting and sweating accompanied by shouts of encouragement to one muscle-bound freak from a group of fellow carpet carriers almost bought a tear to my eye.

Speaking of the gym, I recently lamented on Facebook that after yet another successful free-weights session I had decided not to continue fighting nature and give up running in favour of power-lifting, after all I already have the physique of a Hungarian shot-putter so should be an easy transition.  
I wish I actually looked this feminine
A friend of mine replied that ironically power-lifting was all about transition.  I messaged back that I only wanted to get into the sport so that I could use words like 'snatch' and 'clean and jerk' although I also wanted to avoid shitting out my own insides.


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