I was working out this morning, as I do, and I was reminded of the time(s) I had a gym membership and how I'd go there to work out, to get fit, to be with myself, and there would always be some man pumping iron, throwing weights as if he were trying to impress, and there he was now, looking at himself in the mirror, taking pictures, and then turning to see me or the others to see if we were looking back to him! No. We're not looking. At least I'm not looking. I think about it, and I am so happy I'm not at the gym these days. I could never enjoy a beast. I might consider a man, but I would never be impressed by, want, or otherwise crave a beast. Not in my DNA.
Maybe 25 years or so ago I would have thought it was sexy to be all built up, buff, and full of endless muscles. Don't get me wrong, I may look, but I'm not about to touch. Touch would imply that I wanted to be touched, and if I do, (and I do from time to time want that) I will take a man over a beast every single time - - not that there's been a time recently, but I have a good memory. I can conjure up the image of my fantasy husband Craig Alan Mackenzie when I need to see a real man. I laughed just now because I said I conjure up a fantasy to see a real man. That was me...being me.
Craig only speaks Scots Gaelic so sometimes it is really difficult for me to make out what he's saying, but when he's smiling and folding his kilt in the corner of the room I tend to use my eyes to communicate. He works out right alongside me. He lifts, sweats, bulges, and heaves just fine. I don't need to go to the gym to get my mind full of what I think a man should look, smell, sweat, and sound like. Besides, if any one of those guys who think they're God's gift to the universe would decide to speak to me at the gym about my reps and/or tell me how dedicated I am, I may have to nod politely and walk away. I don't do small talk. I know, it's a flaw, but it's my flaw. I don't go to the weight room to chat. I don't go to the gym floor to be seen. If I go I work out and it's hard to talk and do what I need to do. That's where Craig is so satisfying. He's talking the entire time we're there, but I only catch about every 15th word - - when I piece them all together it seems as if he's saying he's had enough of the gym for now, and he wants to go home and have lunch.
It's not that I don't enjoy looking at a perfectly sculptured body, I do. I've owned horses all of my life. I know a good ass when I see it. I also know how to handle a beast and keep him in his place. I won't budge or back down for one. I just might (someday) decide to submit to a man, but not today. Craig understands that. Oh, gotta go -- he's about to dance. I love that man's legs. Sigh.
Breakfast: Didn't have it.
Snack: Trail mix and cherries
Lunch: Avocado and Yam smoothie (yes, really)
Dinner: pork chops, mashed potatoes, light gravy, cheese and grapes.
1600 calories Max.
6 miles today walking. WATER WATER WATER and then more water. That's the plan.
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