Since I seem to be waxing nostalgic of late, here’s another tale from my misspent youth. Before we get started, I just want to be clear that I make no excuses for the piss-poor quality of snapshots that are almost twenty years old [cringe].

In my mid-20s I briefly dated some random beefcake for just long enough to realise that while I was young, I was not capable of dumbing myself down for any man. I will admit, however, that thanks to this guy I developed a healthy addiction to exercise. For a while I was into heavy-duty weight-training [until I sustained a severe disc rupture in my lower back — which I re-ruptured about ten years later on my skydive graduation jump — but that’s a whole different story]. I did not train quite to body-building standards, but I looked pretty athletic. At one point, one of the founders of Golds Gym offered to sponsor me as a competitive body-builder, but I simply did not want to become that masculine. It amused me endlessly when other women would declare that they were afraid to weight-train because they did not want to “get big” … like all they’d have to do would be to show-up at the gym for 20 minutes, three times weekly, and massive bulging muscles would suddenly appear within a month.

A lot of the next paragraph will not make sense to anybody who has never weight-trained, so feel free to skip this part — [lily-livered sofa-slobs!!]

At the height of my weight-training era, I was working-out at a small body-building gym in Reseda, California for two hours a day, six days a week, using a body-building “pyramid” routine. At the time, I could bicep curl [one-armed] a maximum of 40-lbs!!!! I warmed-up for that exercise with 25-lb dumbbells. I bench-pressed about 137-lbs — which was about 20 to 25-lbs more than my body weight. As I am so petite [5′0″], I had to step-up onto the seat for the lat pull-down and while gripping the bar, jump down and hook my knees under the leg-bar. I could lift 200-lbs on the standing calf raise . . . and 400-lbs on the donkey calf-raise. Again, for those of you not familiar with the inside of a gym, this is a bent-at-the-waist exercise and does not involve the actual use of donkeys.

During this time period, my girlfriends and I used to dance the night away at a local L.A. nightclub called The Red Onion.

At the time, there was a chain of them, but I don’t think they are around any more.

One night during a random conversation, one of the hot bouncers commented that he couldn’t imagine me going hiking as he thought of me as a Disco Dolly type!!

After I slipped out of my jacket and out-arm-wrestled him, he changed his mind.

True Story: A guy I had sex with during the peak of my weight-training years actually asked me after the first time whether my coochie was so snug because I was a weight-trainer!!!! While I attempted to choke back a guffaw of unladylike laughter, I managed to splutter-out that I did not believe Kegels were one of the exercises in open use at the gym.

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This entry was posted on Tuesday, May 13th, 2008 at 10:14 am and is filed under Humour, Naughty. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.