Huddled Masses and Post-Coital Glow. . .


The parking lot was empty that day, my friends—like the head of a politician, except with more potential for good. But AOL emerged from the darkness and the rest of the pax soon followed, like flies to a steaming pile of. . . (well, you get the picture).

The huddled masses had nothing to forewarn them that they would soon become wretched refuse yearning to breathe free on the teeming shore of Discovery Place Kids.


The mumblechatter was incessant, if not erudite.

Instructions were foisted, bells were hoisted, and brows were moisted.

Sweat was coaxed from every pore.

Complaints were heard, but summarily ignored.


Warmup:

  • Goose Steps
  • Bear Squat
  • Pirate Ship Ride
  • Mosey

Partner:

  • Partner Bell Swap
  • Bent-Over Row / Fat Bottomed Girls
  • Torso Tipovers / Big Girl Merkins
  • Side Lunges / Banana Boat
  • Forearm Curl / Elbow Plank

Individual:

  • Armageddon
  • Upright Row
  • I in the Sky
  • The Zipper (overhead bell presses with a run)

Mary:

  • X’s and Oh’s
  • Oblique V-up

The preponderance of attendees congregated at Lowe’s, sharing a glow that could only be described as post-coital but without any of the enjoyment. Most imbibed the bitter brew, but your humble correspondent does not truck in roasted bean rituals, so bird seed and a post-peak banana sufficed for sustenance. 

If you enjoyed the workout, it was my pleasure to pleasure you (and I mean that in the creepiest way possible). If you did not enjoy it, just consider this another sighting of Elvis.