Running My Mouth

So, what's the biggest obstacle with keeping up with a work out regimen?

Boredom.

Seriously. If you could keep me from getting bored, I would march an hour a day on the treadmill. And, since I can't figure out how to surf online while walking the Battalion Death March, I have to find other ways to amuse myself. Most of the time, I have to rely on my wit and sarcasm. (they have served me well over the years, thankyouverymuch.) The only downfall of this, of course, is my big mouth.

So, one day, I'm marching away, when one of the regular muscle heads has made the mistake of working out his ginormous arms near me. I'm staring at the massive size of his arms, his back, and his head. He notices me noticing, and smiles. (By the way, his name is Frankie. Not Frank. Frankie. Did I mention that he was a grandfather? Grandpa Frankie could crush me with his bare hands.) So, we start with polite conversation. (well, as polite as I can be.) We start talking about this BIG muscle exhibit coming up, and how several people from the gym are entering the muscle contest. He says that afterwards, they are going out dancing. Somehow, the conversation turns to strip joints. (Here is where it gets ugly.) He's just talking, making conversation with me, and somehow in that time, I managed to climb on my high horse.
"Dude, strippers are dirty."
I'm not sure why I said that, because in all actuality, I really love strippers. (I think that they are doing humanity a service, and I applaud them for jumping on that grenade, so I don't have to) Plus, I think strippers are hella sexy. But, you know me, once I start running my mouth, I can't make myself stop. So, I'm huffing and puffing away, and don't realize that at this point, I'm pretty much just talking to myself.
"Yup, strippers are nasty."
"Serious daddy issues"
"STD magnets"
I'm sure that there was more, but I think my brain is currently trying to block out most of this, because it's trying to protect me from myself.
So, I fail to notice that the entire gym is listening to me, from the highest perch of my ivory tower.
No one is speaking.
And I'm still running my mouth.

I finish my walk, and hop off the machine.



Remember this moment, because this will come back and bite me right in the ass.