I know I’ve told you all how I just loathe exercise. I’ve told you that I’m lazy. I’ve even told you all about my Gazelle. How we’re not friends. How we’re hardly even acquainted these days. You see, he has a new job. He has evolved into a coat rack. He’s pretty good at it, too. And while he’s great at that job and I really don’t miss him, I feel the need (not desire!) to get reacquainted.
And while I feel that Tony Little’s promises of “results, results, results” totally sucks, I realize it’s not the gazelle’s fault. I have to actually use him to get results. Gee, I sound kinda like a bimbo, don’t I?
Anyway, my strategy was to romance the gazelle. I thought that I could make it more personal by giving him a name. I thought of Richard…too boring. Pierre…not my style. Calvin…too comical. I was getting nowhere. Then, I decided to go red-neck-one-step-up! I came up with Gym Beau. You’d think that would do it, huh?
Dirt Man thought the idea of romancing Gym Beau was kind of silly and uhhhh perverted. But then again, I am not going to repeat our conversation or what he thought I was going to be doing with the gazelle. I’ll only tell you I snapped back with, “No, I’m not doing that; I’m just going to be riding him!”. Ok, ‘nuff said. Any suggestion on a name for him.
Let’s just say, we’re not getting to know one another very well. I have gone on one thirty minute date with him this year. I’m trying to find ways to spark up the romance, get me really into Gym Beau. The only thing I can think of to get me on him is to fill the water bottle holder with chocolate kisses, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll get on him long enough to eat all the chocolate.