We’re going to pump *CLAP* you up!

Fitness for Life was a circuit training class that met twice a week. It was a big circle of weight machines with exercise bikes in the middle and you move from station to station very quickly (they had a soundtrack with a voice telling us when to switch): bike for 40 seconds, arm curls for 40 seconds, move to the next bike for 40, pull downs for 40, the next bike and so on. Warm up for a couple minutes, go through the circuit twice, cool down for a couple minutes and there’s your 50-minute class.

I had a blast. Whether I helped other people have a blast… the results varied. I had fun rocking out at times, but I want to you all to know that head-banging to Taylor Swift while on an exercise bike can be hazardous to your health. (I’m not talking just mental and emotional health, either…) Catching people’s eyes while they were lifting weights and then flexing my muscles really hard would usually lead to a smile, a laugh or the finger. I apparently sweat a lot, so I had several girls regret getting behind me in the circuit because I would leave some of the arm pads a little damp. (Along those lines, I want you all to know that giving germaphobes big, sweaty hugs can also be hazardous to your health.)

The one downside was that some of the girls in the class were really cute. That was actually kinda nice, but then I’d remember that most, if not all of them were in grade school when I graduated from college the first time. I couldn’t help but think of them as kids. They were attractive kids, but kids nonetheless. Dammit…

Actually, the other downside was probably the catalyst that led to my current problem. I always made a point to challenge myself in that class, adding weight on each machine as the semester went along. One of them was a leg lift that focuses on your quadriceps: sit on the seat, bend your legs back and hook your feet behind a bar, then lift your legs forward. I had strong legs, so I put a bunch of weight on it every time. It was only during physical therapy afterward that I was told I should never ever ever use that machine. EVER.

And this feels like a good place to wrap up the first part of the story. It’ll keep you on the edge of your seat, throwing your popcorn at the computer screen, wondering when my evil twin will show up and announce that he impregnated my physics professor. Fear not! I’ve still got plenty of time to write the second episode, so clean up your mess, make another batch of popcorn and prepare to find out that said physics professor was a dude. (Sorry, that was a spoiler… my bad.)