There I was, red-faced, sweaty hair plastered to my forehead with stray strands poking up like a bad punk hairdo.
I was nearing the end of my 2.5 mile daily jog. Naturally, that’s when the hottest boy I’ve seen in a long time walks into the gym. I work out to look good (and to eat junk food), but I don’t look good while working out.
Were my knees wobbling from fatigue or from hormones?
I wear headphones while I work out, so it’s hard to strike a conversation with a tall, leanly muscled Adonis. But I did notice that I was pushing myself harder and putting more dance in my stride as I huffed and puffed away. I kept peeking at him out of the corner of my eye.
I didn’t get any peeks back, and nearly lost my balance in the process. Falling off a treadmill is ONE way to get some male attention, but not exactly the kind I’d like.
Given my recent epiphany, I have no major plans to pursue this paragon of maleness. But it does make for nice eye candy and provides motivation to keep going to the gym.
But how about you? Have you ever met anyone at the gym? How does one start a conversation there?