Gym-Nasty

Since the New Year has rang in I have had a horrible head cold. I think it wouldn’t be this bad if it weren’t for my visit to Michigan. My uncle turned to the heat up for us, because Georgia must be located at the equator and we are used to sweating while we sleep.
Since I have eaten the equivalent of a tractor trailer full of food since Christmas, snot, head pressure, and all I go to the gym. I go to the gym for the soul purpose of eating whatever I want.
The social dynamics of the gym are quite interesting. I never feel bored, because there is always such good people watching like the mom with the igloo boob job that gets a personal trainer to train her and her two 30-something-year-old daughters or the old guy with the comb-over wearing shiny lycra biker shorts with tube socks and black velcro sneakers.
I was in the abdominal workout area when I notice this girl. We will call her Katie. Katie is a cute little blond thing that is wearing a tee shirt, some running shorts, and what I hope are spandex shorts.
Katie must have been a cheerleader, a dancer, or a relative of Gumby. Katie was lying on the floor with her butt against the wall in spread eagle position for what seemed like an hour. Katie was so flexible that her feet were resting on the floor. She would point and flex her feat and then bring her legs together and do this scissor move. 
Really, Katie? Normally, those types of awkward positions and exercises are reserved for the aerobics room or in the privacy of your home. It wasn’t jealousy that perplexed me. Although, I would love to have that flexibility, it was the danger. Doing moves like that in a gym full of meatheads on steroids? Katie, your likely to be mounted faster than you can say hurkey.
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