Wednesday, January 5, 2011

A tale nausea, flatulence, and regret.

In an attempt to battle my current physical status of grandiose fatassery, I finally made my way back to the gym tonight after a long hiatus. I've been meaning to go for weeks, but I keep making excuses because there really is a lot of other shit I need to be doing (like cleaning out my apartment). A friend was talking about going, encouraged me to meet her there so we could say hi to each other and then proceed to ignore each other for the duration of our workout... because thats really what happens when two people do cardio together. If you can breathe easily enough to have a full on conversation with the person next to you, you're doing something wrong.

I don't usually eat lunch, so I decided to have a very small meal when I got home from work while I waited to depart. I had a tiny scoop of leftover potato salad and a piece of cheese... because thats all that was in the fridge anyway. This was a good hour before my workout.

So I get to that warm haven of physical fitness, the scent of ambition and other people's ass sweat ripe in the air, meet my friend and proceed to work out on my old reliable, the elliptical machine. Five minutes into it, I began to work up a decent sweat... and thats when the farts began. Not my farts, mind you, but the ripe scent of someone else's anal gas.




























Someone was blasting away happily during their workout without any fucking concern for others around them. Look, I know cardio knocks the farts out of you, its happened to me before. However, if I have a case of awful asswind, I avoid being around large amounts of other people that are going to have to smell the fruits of my rectum. And if you didn't know you had gas before you got to the gym, by the time you let out your second whoosh of stinky steam, you should make the decision to hightail it out of there.

After stewing in this shit for a good 20 minutes, my stomach began to churn. That small amount of potato salad and piece of cheese felt like it was expanding, multiplying into 10lbs of potato salad and a whole wheel of cheese. I was trying to put in at least 30 minutes for my first day back, but the 27 minute mark was where I finally gave up and decided I needed to get the fuck out or I was going to vomit all over the gym floor.

I'm going back tomorrow, and you can bet your ass I'm not eating a goddamn thing beforehand, just in case once more someone wants to share the inner workings of their colon with the rest of the group. Bookmark and Share