So here's a story for you to archive, Scree, for your amusement or information, whichever you choose. Times are approximate, there to give you relative sense of the sequence of events.
1615 EST: Driving home last night, the Kashi Go Lean began to unleash its fury. Damn, I thought I had beat it.
1645 EST: Arrive at gym, the first wave has subsided. I am alive.
1700 EST: Begin doing SOHP's in safety rack, no sign of the fury returning. I am in the clear. Or so I thought.
1735 EST: All shoulder lifts completed, begin tricep circuit. First up, skull crushers. Gastrointestinal tract is sending me warning signs, I ignore them.
1737 EST: Cute, very petite girl w/ Texas A&M shirt walks over, small talk about Aggie football, the Midwest, and what is better, top sirloin, ribeye or filet mignon. Pressure limits are starting to peak.
1738 EST: Trying to do more skull crushers inbetween talking to her and figuring out the best way to invite her out to get steak and prove to her that filet, while the most prized cut, is not the best. Trying not to drop the barbell on my FACE while simultaneously retaining reactor pressure levels that would have the NRC shutting me down and taking my liscense.
1742 EST: I have to leave the area immediately. I destroy the locker room for habitation for at least 2 decades.
1743 EST: I walk out, she's not anywhere to be seen, maybe she'll be around another day.
That **** completely **** up your game. Remove any of the factors (lifting, the immense pressure, and the trying to not come on like the everydouche at the gym) and I would have been solid. Damn you Kashi!!
_________________ "It's real, grew up in trife life, the times of white lines The hype vice, murderous nighttimes and knife fights invite crimes" - Nasir Jones
|