|The resemblance is uncanny.|
Some people go to the gym in order to build themselves up to lift the heaviest weights they can. Several of my classmates are into this kind of pursuit and they seem to be able to lift the weight of ten large hams above their heads one-handed whereas I am flat-out lifting a ham sandwich to my mouth. Which is why, when my Smaller Half came home today and said, "Let's go to the gym!", I moaned and groaned but ultimately said okay. I really would benefit from some exercise.
When we got to the gym, I was dragged into what I call a Girls' Class. It has some name like SexyThighs or Buns 'n' Abs or BoobFunk and it involves using small weights and doing endless repetitions while your ears bleed from the 80's remixes being blasted at you so loud that you can see the shockwaves. It's kind of fun.
But because I am a man I feel compelled to use heavier weights than the strongest woman in the class despite the fact that they are clearly fitter and stronger than me. My rationale is that not only am I chock full of testosterone, I also have an extremely large head so I should be quite strong already. Of course, after five minutes of doing squats and lunges with this bar across my shoulders something bad happened. The instructor went, "Up and two and down and two and pump and two and three and four", and I went, "Up, and two, and down, and aaaaargh!" My legs didn't work any more and I fell to the ground.
To my surprise, nobody rushed to my aid. The instructor and my Smaller Half both raised their eyebrows and made little "oooh" noises while I flopped around on the floor, but that was it. Perhaps they are getting used to sweaty red-faced men crashing to the ground in their classes. It's a jungle out there. Watch out for the Amazons.
[p.s. World-wide hot beverage poll now up - vote or we'll be hung!]