Lifting makes me feel like a badass.
This morning I hit some of the machines (a first for me -- a lover of the free weights) and was feeling pretty good about not looking too dumb.
I even gave this one dude a glare when he looked at me with my light weights like I didn't know what I was doing.
Back off buddy, I'm not a seasoned pro like you.
But I may have gone a little bit too heavy with the weights, as I'm crazy sore in the shoulders and triceps. I just wanted to prove to the guy with biceps bigger than my thighs that I was a badass too.
My one not-at-all-badass moment happened when I couldn't figure out the bicep machine. I think my elbows were sitting at the wrong spot and I couldn't figure out how to adjust the pads to make it so that I could actually bend them at all. After awkwardly glancing around to make sure no one had witnessed this debacle, I quickly abandoned the machine for another one and hit the free weights at the end for some bicep work.
And now by request from almost everyone, the reason I was out until 7 a.m. Friday into Saturday. (Disclaimer: All other people in the following will be referred to as Friend 1, 2, 3, etc. to protect their identities. People from work used to read this after all.)
It all started out simply enough when Friend 1 and I went to the "Arrested Development marathon and booze fest" on Friday night hosted by another co-worker. Friend 1 brought a bottle of wine. We had a few glasses, we did a shot of Jack Daniels, we watched the show with everyone else. In general good times.
At about 1ish, we decided to bounce. Friend 1 and I then called Friend 2 and decided we should all hang out at Friend 2's apartment. (Don't worry folks, it was within walking distance.)
So basically that's what we did for the rest of the night. We listened to music, hung out and talked until 6:30 a.m. when Friend 1 and I walked back to Friend 1's apartment where my car was parked.
Nothing very thrilling...apologies if anyone was horribly let down by this.