always be honest, except for when you lie

Friday, January 07, 2005

granny up

I pride myself on being something of a proficient at working out. I am certainly not in great shape at this time but said fact can be attributed to the growing and raising of two children now aged three and one. This is the body of a once fit but now long sleep deprived, overworked and overcookied woman.

I still pride myself.

I'm the brand of cat who will, on seeing how much you just lifted, attempt to match or better you. Assuming you're not, you know, huge and a guy or whatever. You know what I'm saying. I like the competitive feel at the gym. That's why I don't work out at home.

I've mentioned in the past that the time at which I go to the gym seems to draw a more senior crowd.

Sixties, seventies. Senior Crowd.

I've mentioned I lift more than the old ladies.

Of course.


Yesterday I was surprised to find that one woman, clearly in her late fifties early sixties, seemed to be lifting more than me on the leg adductor.

Naturally, my brain, in all of it's vain grandeur, tried to math it out. How this happened. Maybe she was a champion lifter in her day. Maybe she didn't really do that weight but changed it just before I came up to make it look like she did. Maybe she's an alien who likes winter and can lift obsene amounts of weight with her inner thighs.

The possiblities were, clearly, endless.

Nevertheless I bumped the weight substantially and made damn sure every other thing I did went up at a similar incremement. I've got an image to maintain.

It's an image that exists only in my mind yet I'm sure you see it is one that cannot be sacrificed.


There's no way Granny Tight Fanny is going to out lift me.