Tag Archives: gym god

Did Penny thumb her nose at fate?

26 Aug

Survey says: Penny has been watching too much Merlin on Netflix.

So, here’s the weird coincidence.

I live in one of the most populous counties in the country and very rarely run into people I know when I’m out and about running errands, much less beautiful men I’ve never met but contemplated meeting seven ways to Sunday. The statistical likelihood has got to be infinitesimal.

So, gentle readers, explain to me how I managed to spot Gym God going into Bed, Bath & Beyond as I was driving away from the DSW next door last night.

The worst part? I decided that since I didn’t have a reason to go into the store, it would be a little too much like stalking to go in and… browse the merchandise.

BUT I DID HAVE A REASON TO GO IN AND I FORGOT.

So maybe it wasn’t fate, after all. Because if it had been fate, I would have remembered that I need a new top for my Tervis since the old one cracked.

Discuss.

Don’t I know you?

25 Apr

As previously established, I am the most awkward ever. Prior confirmation of this fact does not, unfortunately, stop me from accruing further oh-so-damning evidence. Take, for example, last evening and the case of the Wicked-hot Army Capitán.

While getting changed after work into my fitness “gear”, I had a premonition that yesterday would be a good day to not wear my standard gym uniform of ratty old t-shirt and shorts from high school, so I was feeling fairly cute – my hair was back in a decently attractive ponytail, my pasty-pale legs glowed nicely against the grey of my running shorts, and my shoulders well-displayed by a racer-back top.

Cute, that is, until I walked into the fitness center and stared straight into the eyes of Wicked-hot Army Capitán. Or, straight into his eyes in the mirror, which is essentially the same thing.

Shit.

Shit shit shit.

You have to understand, WhAC isn’t just a new Gym God for a new gym. WhAC and I met waaaaaaaay back in February in a bar when I was sober and he was not and my friends were making out with his friends while I waited for them to be ready for me to drive them home. (Yes, this was the night of the arm-crossing.)

Another hot one I’d never see again. Better luck next time, Penny!

Then sometime last month I made the connection between the attractive guy from the fitness center who kept looking at me oddly and the mixed-race (Mexican and Native American. DEAR ZEUS, THE CHEEKBONES.) Wicked-hot Army Capitán who courteously got me water so I’d have something to hold and would stop crossing my arms. We’ve since been doing a pretty stellar job of limiting encounters and just all-around pretending to notice everyone but each other.

Then last night he was at the adjustable pulley machine thing… which happens to be right next to the leg lift machine with which I begin my weight routine.

Harrumph.

So what did I do? I turned up my iPhone, ignored his existence per previously established routine, and went about awkwardly lifting and lifting and wishing I’d shaved above my knee or not decided to wear shorts.

Awkward enough for you? Just wait – it gets better. Continue reading

Yellow (Ball so hard)

1 Feb

I didn’t do it.

And from 6 – 7:15 p.m. EST on Thursday, 30 January, this was really not at all my fault. The fates had spoken; Gym God’s beautiful physique was not gracing the gym or, subsequently, my presence. (Phew.)

But then at 7:15 I crunched up to the left on my bright red exercise ball, and there he was. Back down and up again to the right: he made his gorgeous way from the entrance to the mens’ locker room.

This is where I went wrong. I could have chosen to pick up the pace on my crunches then loiter outside the locker rooms like the goob I am inside my head, awkwardly given him my number, and left the gym in an ambivalent haze of disbelief and pride (ostensibly composing a self-congratulatory post in my head). Instead, I continued with my core routine and determined that I would give him the slip of paper with my number if the stars aligned and our paths crossed. (Because that was going to happen.)

(Aside: Does this make me a coward? Or just socially conscious enough to not want to be a stalker? I am not entirely sure. HOWEVER, I can’t help but think that if roles were reversed and a slightly better than average-looking man cornered an off-the-charts me while I was going about my own business being sweaty at the gym, well… it would definitely rate higher on the creepy scale than the flattering scale.)

And just so you understand the extent to which the universe was disgusted by my passivity, this (WARNING: NSFW) shuffled on my iPhone immediately after Gym God entered my vicinity (#irony):

Because giving out your number always goes as planned

31 Jan

The following two scenarios will be unfolding in parallel universes this evening. Unfortunately one of them typically only exists in my imagination, but maybe my endorphin high will help me to find some gumption.

Gumptionless, Typical Penny Thursday:

New apartment –> Fitness Center –> No gym membership needed –> Canceling gym membership tonight –> Goodbye forever, Gym God <<wipes sad tear>>

OR

Gumptionful Meet Cute, Atypical Penny Thursday:

New apartment –> Fitness Center –> No gym membership needed –> Canceling gym membership tonight –> Low-risk opportunity to proposition Gym God

Call me, maybe?

Call me, maybe?

I should just do it, right? Only four salient facts lie between myself and a RomCom-worthy Meet Cute: 1. he is beautiful, 2. he likely has a beautiful lover, 3. I am the most awkward ever, 4. the gym is never a convenient place in which to pick up a potential date.

But, we have this blog and I’ve been boring lately… (Blogs are an AWESOME excuse to do shit you’d never do otherwise, btw.)

Therefore, this evening will find me with a slip of paper, on which is written my name and number*, in my pocket. Should the opportunity present itself, I will slip this paper to Gym God and walk away to resume my workout.

Laters, baby. I’m off to find some gumption. (I should download this song for my iPod, obviously.)

*Last time I gave a guy my number he ended up being a fantastic friend**, so this can’t end too badly, right?

**Who quickly became annoying because he wanted to hang out all the time and wouldn’t take a hint***.

***Still getting random invites, six months later…

Elliptical Goddess for a Gym God?

16 Jan

Middle-Aged Male Gym Goer: You spend way too long on that thing [elliptical].

Penny: I’m sorry, what?

MAMGG: Every day I tell myself, “You’re going to keep up with her today.” And every day you just keep going.

Penny: Oh, uhhhh, well <<flashes New Yorker>> it really helps to have a magazine?

MAMGG, if only you knew that every day I say to myself: Penny, if you get off this machine before that grey-haired man I will lose all respect for you and tell you so constantly in a repeating thought pattern until you fall asleep.

Let’s all play… Spot the New Year’s Resolution!

3 Jan

Game: Spot the New Year’s Resolution

Maker: Expanding Waistlines (xWai™) in partnership with Hasbro

Objective: Differentiate between pre-New Year’s gym regulars and post-New Year’s gym masses (the New Year’s Resolutions, or NYRs for short). Your gym wins if the number of NYRs exceeds the number of regulars (for the NYR will use the gym sparingly while still paying full price). You… cannot win.

You will need:

  1. Time to go to the gym during peak, after-work hours on the first day following the New Year’s holiday
  2. At least three-to-four months of prior gym membership
  3. Keen observational skills
  4. Pepper spray

Rules (Dos and Dont’s):

  1. Do engage in vulturing (i.e. circling/perching on a nearby machine to snag the one you want and could previously rely upon every Monday-Wednesday-Friday from 6-7 pm because it is your elliptical and the regulars know this). Use elbows sparingly.
  2. Do not confuse shiny, off-the-rack workout clothes bought or gifted in the hopes of actually going to the gym this year with the shiny new shoes and/or compression top in combination with worn workout favorites. The latter are statistically significant indicators of a regular, not a NYR.
  3. Do rest on the weight machines between sets for fear of a NYR stumbling up and taking a year to do three reps.
  4. Do not engage or make eye-contact with a NYR for fear of contracting the highly contagious inability to stick to a workout routine (you’ve been doing so well!).
  5. Do take deep, measured breaths when confronted with a NYR in some way interfering with your routine. They will be gone by the Super Bowl.
  6. Do not use your pepper spray on a NYR, despite their blatant attempts to bait you.

Snark break: Acceptable footwear for the gym

21 Dec

I am, as of 7:03 p.m. EST on Thursday, Dec. 20, 2012, officially crushless.

Why?

This. THIS is why.

Yup. Gym God sauntered past me last evening wearing a pair of those FiveFingers barefoot running “shoes”. Inside. At the gym.

Just to be clear, wearing the above shoes is the 21st century equivalent of…

Wearing a dress so wide you have to walk through doors sideways. (Empress Elizabeth 1 of Russia, 18th Century)

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