I am so out of shape.
I mean really! My dad is in better shape than me and he’s over 50. I got convinced by my lovely one to go with him to the gym and man, I was right to go. I was aching for the first few weeks and could barely go up the stairs (I was actually crawling on my hands and knees because I could not flex them). But I seem to be improving. I can walk easier now than last week and my jeans are getting baggy. He is still cooking for me and this week it has been chicken all day long. Don’t get me wrong, it feels good to eat anything else but rabbit food like I have been doing so far.
So, yesterday after getting out of breath after bycicling, I went to do push ups and before falling flat on my face like a pancake, I managed to do about 5.
We get back home and he asks me:
“Were you wearing a bra today?”
“Yes! Do you think I’d go exercise with everything hanging loose?”
“Well, when you were doing those push ups, your hands were fully extended and your boobs were near the floor!”
“Well, thank you!”
“I think they weigh about 7kg, together.”
“Should we weigh them?”
“Yes, would you like to do it?”
I thought he’d say no because he is gay but he said “yes!”
We don’t have any weighing scales that take more than 250g so we dropped it.
This morning he looks at me and tells me I lost weight since I started ’cause he was watching me in the gym and thinking “Damn, you’re curvy!”. If only he knkeww i was watchin him too in the gym thinking “Damn, you are hot! Those muscles bulging, that flat stomach, the pecs, the strong legs.” I think I was drooling most of the time.
Oh – he offered to make me a baby :)) but that is a story for another time.