Why I Don’t Workout

Last night before bed I was watching these workout videos and motivational videos to push myself to actually start working out. My brother gives me such a hard time telling me that I’m “gaining weight” and the last thing I can let him do is be right. I can’t be gaining weight. Plus I also still need to be able to kick his ass when I see him again. After all he is my younger brother.

I don’t know if this is true or not but they say you dream about the last thing your mind thinks about. I’ve only found that to be true twice in my life and this was one of them. In my dream, which at the time I had no idea I was in a dream. I thought it was my next day, at my class with some personal trainer for a private gym. Which was exactly what I scheduled for the next morning to finally get me to the gym and start working out. It was like some or Inception kind of thing, it felt so real.

Regardless this guy was hardcore and made it abundantly clear he loved working out. Like really really loved it. He was screaming, yelling, jumping, up and down with pure adrenaline or he had some cocaine running through his veins. I didn’t care either way, I just couldn’t believe his passion for working out. It was the first and only thing he talked to me about when I walked in. I’m convinced he ate, slept and breathed working out. So much so every time he’d workout he’d get so excited, too excited, he’d get his blood pumping so much, he would always give himself an erection.

To him this was no big deal. Something tells me that this was normal. He definitely did love to work out. I don’t think that or anything would stop him from working out. I realized very quickly that this wasn’t a first time thing. I had no idea what I had signed myself up for. At the time I didn’t know it was a dream, I thought this was my class. It went exactly how I expected it to go.

First thing he took me to was the three treadmills he had to get our lungs breathing before we got after it. He was running next to me casually but when it got down to the final ten seconds he pushed me to run faster by racing me on the treadmill next to me. As soon as the clock struck zero he yelled, “Winner, better luck next time kid.”

We were on treadmills racing at the same speed… how the hell could I have lost. No one can beat someone on the treadmill unless they leap through the front of it like they’re trying to break the finish line rope. Plus he called me kid and that irked me. Maybe I was being a sore loser but when he said to me, “My Johnson was stretched out just a little further than you’re lean. I beat you.”

I wasn’t fired up anymore, I wasn’t crept out by it, nor did I look when he glanced down at it, almost emphasizing it to me. Instead I stood there with nothing to say, I mean what could I say? Was I supposed to compliment him on his member and congratulate him for beating me on a treadmill? I stood there on my treadmill wiping my face clean of sweat until he told me I rested long enough and sent me towards the next workout… pushups. He led the way to the other side of his gym to where the freight weights and yoga matts were. He directed me specifically to get on the mat next to him as he got situated on his. It was the only red mat in his entire gym. All the other ones were the standard black you see everywhere.

He asked me, “You can do push ups right?” I didn’t understand the question. I feel like I’ve learned how to do a pushup before I even learnt how to walk. I mean how else would I have been able to stand myself up? He didn’t wait for my answer nor did he care if I had, which I didn’t have anything to say. So he continued and directed me again, “The way to do a proper pushup form is like this, you have to go all the way to the ground. Close enough you can kiss it.”

I knew how to do a pushup, I don’t get why he’s explaining it to me, all he’s doing is pissing me off. In all honesty though all I could think about was how bad this guys form must be when he tries to do a pushup. I can only assume he has his knees on the ground and simply dips the top half of his body enough to kiss the flour and calls it a pushup. He was pitching a tent that wouldn’t let him bend his elbows at all.

But when he went to demonstrate to me this proper technique, he actually went all the way down to the floor and kissed it. It was perfect pushup form and left me speechless… again I mean during that thing on the treadmill I just had nothing to say. I’ve never met anyone that’s beat me by the sheer length of their Johnson in a race before. I didn’t know how to feel about that, but when he was able to do a perfect pushup with all of that protruding through his pants, I truthfully couldn’t find a thing to say.

When he got up from his mat after crushing fifty perfect pushups, he said to me, “Alright Your turn.” That’s when I saw it. That was why that yoga mat was the only red mat in his whole gym… it was made personally for him. I mean this was his own personal gym and all he had to make it accommodating. I noticed his yoga mat had a two inch whole in the center of it going who know’s how deep. It perfectly lined up with his pecker and had to be why he has such impeccable form. He was able to do a perfect pushup kissing the floor simply every time because he had made this gym specifically for him. He couldn’t do that at Global Gym or Average Joe’s.

Before I did my pushups I was looking around and noticed the back curls machine also had a hole in the center of it for where he would lay down. The same went for his hamstring curling machine. I couldn’t tell if I was mortified or impressed with his customized set up, but once he got back to his feet and I was still on my knees getting ready to do pushups I woke up from my dream.

I immediately kicked the covers off of me and sat up in my bed completely distraught from whatever the hell I just went through. I quickly called whoever I scheduled as a personal trainer and cancelled my session with them. There was no way I could get myself to workout now. I guess I’ll never end up working out.

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