You Don't Want To Be My Workout Partner

Honestly, you don't. In the name of all that is holy, listen to me and spare yourself the agony.

It's not because I'm unreasonable, or I'll push you beyond your limits. I'm not unreliable when you really need someone to show up, or even motivate you. As far as those qualities go, I'm top notch. Hell! I'm so good there, I could be a personal trainer. I'm fucking awesome.

But, don't get sucked in! Use restraint. Why wouldn't you want to be my workout partner?

Let me tell you a story:

I woke up this morning at 7 on the nose. The first thing I remembered was that I was pretty excited about going for a bike ride. That was yesterday's excitement, today I just wanted to sleep, and a bike ride was about the farthest thing from what my legs were asking for.

I argued and rationalized, and debated with myself over whether I would go for a ride. About an hour later, when I honestly told myself that I would go, except for the price of gas, I realized that I might as well get up and go for a decent ride.

I got my bike and filled up on $4.99 gas so that I could driveout to the trail (WTF!!?!?!!? I'm not happy about this shit!), and rode my bike up and down mild inclines for an hour. I didn't go full out at any point, just an hour of moderately strenuous exercise.

At the end of my workout, I stretched and hopped in my car and drove back into town. Windows down, driving down the freeway; it was niiiice.

So, after 10 minutes I started to realize that I was hungry, and if I went home to shower, I would be too tired afterwards to go out and get food. And, since I didn't want to eat a couple of bowls of Chex, I decided to pull over and grab some meal-making supplies.

When I got off the highway, and pulled into the Publix parking lot, I thought a sewer main had broken, or maybe a water treatment plant was nearby. "What the fuck is that smell???"

And suddenly, it dawned on me. That smell was me!! I was emanating the most god-awful stench that I had ever smelled in my life. I'm not exaggerating when I tell you that it was nauseating. Nauseating, you know? Like I fucking wanted to throw up!

So, just to be sure (and maybe because I'm a little retarded in sectors of my brain), I lifted my arm, buried my nose in my armpit, and took a big deep whiff. (Mistake.)

My armpit smelled like a rancid vagina. Like, let's say you had a vagina, not a woman, just a dismembered vagina. Now, since it's not attached to a living body, you're going to have to take special care with this vagina, or it may begin to decompose, and get kinda stinky in the process. If you had a dismembered vagina, you may want to keep it in the fridge, or maybe freeze it until you decide to do whatever you do with a dismembered vagina.

Okay.

Now let's say that you took that vagina, and rather than refrigerating it, you threw it in the corner of your basement. Musty, a little bit dank, but certainly dark, that basement, and left it there for a week. Then for some reason, your mom told you to get that damn vagina out of her basement, so you put it outside under a tree. You were nervous that your dog would think it was a toy, so you decided to put the vagina in a ziplock sandwich bag. Then you leave town for three or four days, and when you get back, you notice that the vagina has started to liquefy.

Out of curiosity, you decide to open the zip lock bag just to see what that would smell like. THAT! That is the smell from my armpit today!!! Literally, I wanted to throw up. I smelled my armpit several times just to be certain I wasn't making it up. I swear to GOD that I wanted to throw up!

But, what was I to do? Go home, and eat cereal? Hells no!

So, I went into Publix, kept my arms firmly by my sides, and tried to stay 10ft or more from people. Certainly, I did my best to avoid children, because I didn't want to hear any "children say the darnedest things" comments.

I sure as hell hope this is a one-time, maybe something I ate, occurrence. Because if this shit continues, I'm gonna have to go see a fucking specialist! And what do you say to your brand new PCP? "Uhm, doc, I need a referral (not sure to what kind of specialist, so I'll be leaning on your expertise there), but when I exercise, uhm, my armpits smell like rancid vaginas."