Always trying to do the girls one better. I do my grueling 600 yards in the pool, Kevin does 500. I run at a blistering 13min pace for 12 minutes, he does 10. I bring my Thighmaster to the pool, he wheels in his Tony Little Gazelle, personally signed by The Man himself. Now, while they say that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, I simply cannot allow this sort of….onedownmanship to go uncontested. Today it’s feeble workouts, tomorrow he’ll be trying to look better than me in skimpy lingerie, and we can’t have THAT, now can we? No, I didn’t think so.
So, my new strategy: to cut out these silly swim-bike-run workouts altogether, and focus on the important stuff. The Thighmaster stays, but I’ll also be adding on some complex and exhausting workouts using these devices:
I know what you’re thinking – what is this girl NOT willing to do to get herself in shape for Alcatraz? Not much, my dear friends, not much. This is truly “what it takes,” and I’m ready for it. Boy, I’m tired already just thinking about it. Time for a nap.
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