I need to clear the air.
Today was challenging. Work, the market, that youngest kid’s still-late/missing assignments, and to top it all off, there was no new episode of Oak Island last night. Well - needless to say I was a powder keg.
You see…I took all that pent up angst and tension, and drove my almost-50 yr old body over to the gym, and just tore it up. Utter devastation and chaos.
Those young 20-30 yr olds were perfectly content to stare at their meager biceps in the mirror, and I just had to come in and curl half the gym. With ease. With authority. With malice.
When I was doing those 1-arm lat pulls with max weight, and that poser dude was nearby with his girlfriend, I felt bad for making him look like a flat tire. Sex will probably never quite be right between them again. It was probably a quiet and awkward and long drive home.
Or when those stupid teenagers were talking about, like, you know, like, important stuff, and like, you know, showing each other their phones, or, like, staring at their phones and smirking, because, like, they found some content on the world wide web utterly amusing and fulfilling. And then I waited calmly for them to finish up and move over, and I ripped the entire structure off the foundation with my unfathomable old-man strength. Yes. They probably felt differently about their fathers this night. Moreso, the insecurity with which they will hold their future child already rests heavily upon my chiseled deltoids and traps.
So yeah. They probably won’t let me back in that gym again. Destroying equipment, albeit while using perfect and proper form, but in an abhorrently vicious manner - a runaway juggernaut, causing almost instant hypertrophy of the triceps and biceps. Don’t get me started on those hammer curls. Guess I have to find a new gym. Que sera sera.