catchmyfancy: (contented sun)
 Yes, there he was today, down in the Big Boys Weights Area doing some - er - Big Boy Weights: Captain Juxtaposition himself.

Still with the head of a Geeky Sun-Deprived Scholar, all pale and blonde and interesting, wire-rim glasses firmly in place.

Still with the tall, lean, barrel-chested, long-armed, muscled-up body of a Demigod or Other Minor Deity Who Really Works His Gym Membership.

I was completely fascinated.  And stared.  And stared, while he did weights things and I pedalled along four kilometeres to nowhere on an exercise bike.  

I had to be careful, because the Thousand-Yard In the Zone Stare, the There is Nothing Else to Look At Besides Walls and Gym Equipment Stare; and the PHWOOOAR Stare are mightily similar and I think he sensed the weight of my interested (and zoning in and out of lustful) gaze more than once.  Whoops.   And he's still all of about 20.  Whoops x 2.  

Could.Not.Look.Away though.  It's like someone put the odds and ends in the Person Assembly Components drawer together and thought: "yeah, okay.  It will do.  Go forth kid, and confuse women with odd tastes."
catchmyfancy: (destiny)

Apparently the the Universe is realigning itself in an Alexandra-friendly configuration.  

Consider:

1.  My birthday is on 7th August.  Which is a THURSDAY.  It is hard to get into a party mood on a Thursday.  And the following Saturday  (which would be the logical Jour Du Partay) I have two ceremonies to run.  Blergh.  Which leaves me a Sunday which means I will be doing an Afternoon Tea at Elley's.  Which will still be fun, but not, you know, a Partay.

But then:
I saw that Vampire Weekend are coming to Melbourne!  On the 6th of August!  Which is the day before my birthday!  And I got a ticket! Which means I can go out on a Wednesday night and have a really good reason to dance and drink and have a Jolly Good Time and see in my birthday with a drink in my hand!  (Or feeling ill at the very thought.  Whichever.  i'm good.)

But then x 2:
I now have a reason to go to Vodka, Borscht and Tears on a Thursday night - the actual real birthday evening.  Plus hair of the dog.  Plus getting the Partaying/Drinking/Squeeing Loudly in Public thing out of my system before my parental units (and hopefully sister and niece) arrive for the rather more sedate afternoon tea on the Sunday afternoon.

2. My house is a god-awful mess.  It is impossible to know where to start.

But then:
I did some dishes.  In a, you know, not-starting-anything-huge-in-fact-not-looking-too-hard-at-what-I-was-doing in between chatting with Shiv and voraciously reading fanfic and ignoring the television.  My kitchen is suddenly back from the brink of Science Experiment status.  Ha!  

3. Kwan at the coffee place makes crap coffee 

But then:
Nah, Universal Realignment does not apparently cover Kwan's chronic daily overheating and roughing-up of my latte.  It's like he has a special anti-talent.

4. There are no hot boys at my gym

But then:
There was one tonight who was Mr Chest and Arms and Shoulders and was pale and interesting and had wire-rimmed glasses on, people.  Yowza!  I had to make sure I was studying the display of my cross-trainer whenever he looked up from doing the seated row with the arms and the chest and the....ooooo.  Excuse me for a moment.

catchmyfancy: (training)
 ....er, that's it, pretty much.

Hot Boy Sprinter was back on the track today but as it is a cool grey drizzly evening here in Melbun, the only thing one could perv upon was his calves.  And very nice they were too.  Some amusement afforded from him doing fancy-schmancy-elite-sprinter-bounding-backwards-while-doing-heel-clicks moves while Catherine Zeta-Jones was belting out All That Jazz on m'iRiver.

Oh, and one of the boys who works for Mike the Personal Trainer was training a client as I walked past.  Trainer Boy was all smouldery brown eyes and broad shoulders.

Apart from that, the usual sweatage from the usual routine.  Oy.
catchmyfancy: (training)
  just back from the gym and it was a rather lacklustre effort - nothing fast or fun - felt like I was pushing shit uphill with a pointed stick at times.

Still, 20 minutes on the cross-trainer, and did my weights.  

But the Clueless Men of the Melbun Yewni gym saw me through - one of them making such a dog's breakfast of doing an ergo that I laughed all the way up the stairs from the Big Boys Area and then one of them doing some lovely muscly things on the other side of the weights machine.  ooo-er. 
catchmyfancy: (Default)

Not long back from the gym.

Because I don't like doing the exercise bike, I got on the rowing ergo instead, visions of the hours (and hours) I used to spend on the damn things back in the 90s springing to mind.

Only managed 800 metres in 5 minutes and only on 3 out of a possible resistance of 10.  (Used to do 1km in 5 minutes and sitting on at least 6 or 7).  Decided not to push it with a sprint at the end like I used to - softly softly catchee monkey and all that.

Technique still okay though - the big tummy helpeth not, but I can still keep my fingers light and my arms and back straight with the best of them.

There was a VERY pretty boy on the ergo three along from me and he was SO a schoolboy (if not a varsity) rower or I miss my guess - his rhythm was beautiful, so I just fell in with his stroke and even got into the zone for a whole 30 seconds.

Had a lesson today - my voice was clear and pretty and lasted very nearly for all of the lesson.  I'm now feeling like I may have a vocal future.

drippy

May. 23rd, 2007 06:15 pm
catchmyfancy: (Default)

After my first session with Mike the Personal Trainer yesterday, I have just come back from the gym after doing my little routine solo this evening.

I'm all sticky!

I had a good look around the gym while I was pounding the beat on my treadmill because about the only perk in all this pain* is having a perv at the pretty boys as they glisten up.   

But mostly it was other girlies and ALL of them were about half my width and looking at me with their nostrils slightly flared.  Might be a gym-junkie 'hello' gesture, might not.  Time will tell.

So I concentrated on the only other thing you have to do in a gym these days which is concentrate on NOT singing out loud when the music on your ipod gets to the good bit.  

*okay, so 'pain' is a strong word - but if some of the men I'd slept with had been as stiff as I am right now, there's a chance I wouldn't have thrown them aside like used tissues. 

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