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by ace
Rated: E · Other · Activity · #1530706
The Weight Belt Superstar
I was focused on my agenda as my hand flung open the ornamental glass door. Neither the whirring machines nor staring eyes put a dent in my stride to the mens locker room. Even a brunette beauty in Brazilian tights strutting before the entrance could hinder my agenda. In and out. I allocated myself 50 minutes.30 minutes for cardio and 20 for abs and chins. After securing my outergear in a locker I made the quick trek to the stair master without a glance in the mirror.

After 20 years in the F.D.N.Y. together with working on 9/11 and the rescue and recovery effort my lungs need the gym. My thought process is this will clear out the toxins. It's my own therapy. Attaining my now depleted maximum heart rate is my goal to begin. After the initial thrust I try to maintain 80-90% max. I am not inclined to speak throughout this torture not for want but because I'm sucking wind.

I'm thirty seconds in when a Frankie Avalon look a like with a huge weight belt around his ample midsection saddles up the nearest machine, parallel to my aching legs. He starts right in with a "do you like these machines"

I give a polite nod with a huff and a puff. He explains the weight belt is because of a bad back. As I aspire to perspire, as the gym slogan says, I give him a shift of my head with a less cordial expression. Not deterred this former athletic god proceeds to explain in great detail his former professional sport accomplishments. I'm now praying this manic depressive gets the hint that I'm not interested. There is no way he accomplished these feats with the body he now possesses. Avalon face without the accesories.

With my patience wearing thin and lungs stifled my prayers are answered.

He spots a hopeful listener on a far off apparatus. He gives me a speedy "I'm going to try another machine,this ones not difficult enough for my ability". I return a big smile and he's on to his next victim.

I finish up in peace and pump out some abdominals with 3 sets of chins.

Upon washing up before my exit I notice my superstar friend doing some posing in the mirror. This is gospel," this man has never seen a mirror he didn't like."My exit is like the wind.
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