0550

My bicep was sore. I was tired. I had already established within myself that I hated the leg workout the most. We all know the end result of this private conversation within myself, the wanting to stay in bed, the voices telling me I couldn’t, me listening despite inner protests. I made my way to the gym. Sigh. Yay.

0610

Late start. Wasn’t motivated. Did I mention I hated the Bulk Legs workout?

“May I try this workout with you?” she said in her soft voice. I turned and smiled. “Sure thing, Symone.” I replied.

I had seen Symone around the gym a few times. How she had access to a Capsuleer only facility was probably an entertaining story. She had eyed me over the previous few weeks as I had been doing the Body Beast program. I had thought it was because of the visible progress. Apparently she had simply been wanting to try it out herself.

Symone was beautiful – Sebeistor, olive skinned, dark haired tucked into a cap, her smoldering brown eyes full of life. She was well kept physically, and more importantly, light hearted and likable.

It was exactly what I needed that morning.

I’ve mentioned it before and I’ll mention it again, I’m sure. If you’re both in the correct state of mind, working out with a partner can be amazing – motivational, competitive, rewarding, exhausting. I always pushed harder with a partner, and in turn, pushed my partners as hard as I pushed myself.

Over the years, some had quit, some had collapsed, some had puked, some had never come back. It motivated me, knowing I would always keep pushing myself harder.

Symone wouldn’t quit. I couldn’t break her, and I tried my best. We pushed hard together. We passed our limits together. We made fat cry together. It was a great workout. I was truly impressed with her.

It’s funny when we read the words of another how we start to visualize things in our own unique way. For example, when reading my description of Symone, you probably had a picture painted in your head of what she looked like. We all do that.

Something I didn’t mention until now, with a purpose, was that Symone was 66 years old.

Your excuses just failed.