Gym. Rats.

I decided I better have one of my semi-annual trips to the gym today so I can justify my $40 a month membership. Also, I'm just getting fatter so its not a bad idea.

As my sebaceous glands pour forth a fountain of sweat, I take stock of the situation around me. Old lady on my left. Pregnant women doing aerobics on the basketball court. A decrepit older man crawling off a weight machine with help from his cane. A host of buff, muscular men hefting very large amounts of metal.

Still I feel good about myself until I lock eyes with the man I'm calling Herman. Herman is easily mid-60's with thick brown plastic frames surrounding his very large glasses. Those glasses are older than I am. He wears a large orange sweatshirt and brown pants. He holds himself up by his forearms on an apparatus which suspends his legs and supports his weight in such a way that his neck has disappeared. He looks like a 65 year old Simon Birch.

He locks eyes with me and holds the stare for a moment as he effortlessly raises his legs forward and up in a sort of backwards mid-air sit up, demonstrating far more abdominal strength than I.

And I feel ashamed.........