[jyl]

A friend and I were out riding our bikes and, on a whim, stopped by a local gym. This is an old school gym. No Stairmaster, smoothies, yoga, machines, preening inflata-men, hot chicks in Lululemon. Just wiry people and a whole lot of iron. We call it the Church of Iron. So we were mincing around, in our padded bike shorts and bike cleats, looking at the denizens. There was exactly one hot chick in the place, but she was quite a specimen. She walked by us, as we sucked in our guts, went to the pull bar, and proceeded to bang out twenty pullups, deltoids like coiled rope and biceps like three of ours. The guy at the front desk called out to us, loudly. “Hey, you want to lift?!” We ran out of the place as fast as our tappy little cleats could take us.