My Super Power – Yeah, Who Knew?
I went to the gym for the first time in what seems like decades only to discover an ugly truth, that I now have the upper body strength of an eight year-old boy – you know, the scrawny kid who splits his free time between flute lessons and trips to the allergist. After about an hour, I went in search of my wife to give her the can-we-go-home-now look. She was on one of those machines that works obscure muscle groups no one knows they have (and it’s better that way). I sat on the machine next to hers and waited like a vulture, hoping the weight of my stare would speed things along.
The machine I was sitting on worked the inner thighs. You mount the thing spread eagle at an angle so obtuse it causes most men a groin injury just looking at it. You lift a stack of weights by clamping your thighs together. I would venture a bet that I was the first person in possession of a Y-chromosome to ever take a seat there. Being a person with well documented attention problems, I grew bored waiting for my wife and wrestled myself into position on the advanced placement thigh-master, nearly hurting myself in the process, and began lifting. It felt too easy at first so I upped the weight again and again until I was lifting the entire stack – 290 lbs. I did a quick 10 reps and then stopped, not because I was tired or flagging, in fact it felt like I could go on like that for weeks, but because of the certainty that if I continued, the next day I would be so sore and stiff I wouldn’t be able to put on a pair of pants .
I left the gym feeling euphoric, as if I had discovered an odd, previously unknown super power – villains beware. So I’m just saying, if you need help cracking a walnut, or squeezing out that last dab of toothpaste, or perhaps crushing an old junk car into a cube of scrap metal, you know who to call. My thighs are at the ready.