I hate the gym

Happy New Year! Back to the gym. Grrrr! I hate the gym.

So, I go to the LA Fitness at 20th and Camelback. What a scene. It’s hilarious. I wish that I could be invisible and observe more.

I love gay men and gay men love me. I’ve been called a gay magnet on ocassion. We love each other. I think that this location of LA Fitness is the official gym of the gay men in Central Phoenix. Gay men at the gym are a hoot. They are so dedicated and serious about being at the gym. And they always look good doing it. They never get all sweaty, sticky and blotchey and red like I do. Nothing like someone of the opposite sex who has absolutely no interest in you making you feel inadequate at the gym.

But best, I love the little old ladies and men who are truckin’ away on the treadmill set to go .5 miles an hour. That’s heart, man. I always try to chat up the little oldies and get the scoop. It’s always a good story. But at the rate that they’re walking, they’ll never make it to the parking lot.

I know the gym is going to be nutty for the entire month of January, because, much like myself, everyone in Phoenix will be on a health kick! Go to the gym, hike Camelback, drink protein shakes, walk, walk, walk! Fortunately, since I work from home, I can head to the gym after 9 a.m. and before 4 p.m. when the rest of the Phoenicians will be there.

If you’re at the gym, stop by and say hi! I’ll be the one huffing and puffing with a cocktail and a snack. Hey, at least I won’t have a cigarette!

Have fun at the gym, folks!

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