Each week there is one morning I wake up with dread. It's not Monday morning as much sense as that makes. Nope. It's dreaded leg day. I rue the thought of getting to the gym and doing legs, no matter what day it falls on.
As I prepare to hit the gym my body revolts and diarrhea sets in. Once I'm cleaned out I head to the gym praying all the squat racks are in use. But they never are. On the rare occasion that they are the guys or girls will look at me and willingly yield their equipment to me. Freaking quitters. So now i have the hated task of loading the bar as I increase poundage. But honestly putting all the weights away after I'm finished is the worst. Especially after leg presses. You keep unloading the bar plate after plate and it just never seems to end.
The only good thing about leg day is finishing that last set, puking in the garbage can, if you make it, and collapsing on the floor with a hard on for all the world to see.
I hate doing legs.
As I prepare to hit the gym my body revolts and diarrhea sets in. Once I'm cleaned out I head to the gym praying all the squat racks are in use. But they never are. On the rare occasion that they are the guys or girls will look at me and willingly yield their equipment to me. Freaking quitters. So now i have the hated task of loading the bar as I increase poundage. But honestly putting all the weights away after I'm finished is the worst. Especially after leg presses. You keep unloading the bar plate after plate and it just never seems to end.
The only good thing about leg day is finishing that last set, puking in the garbage can, if you make it, and collapsing on the floor with a hard on for all the world to see.
I hate doing legs.
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