The Tale of Smelly McNasterson

Posted June 2nd by YikesMaster in Uncategorized

So I’ve returned to this trainer of mine as I try to lose the leftover weight from college. Which on an off topic, they never properly warn you about at orientation. They give you this entire alcohol prevention and safety schpeel, but the powers that be never slam an overweight dude up front and say, “Look at this man. He attended this school 5 years ago and guess what? 175 when he started, about 350 now (treeee-fitty). Why? He’d like to thank Jagermeister, Blue Moon and delicious mixed bar drinks that he was able to get at Bullwinkle’s for 3 dollars by the bucket.”

For all intensive purposes, I’m that “dude.” Except I didn’t start at 175 and end at 350… just to be clear for those who don’t ever see me in person. Either way, it’s time to get fit now that school is over and I have a bit more time to focus on “me.” SO I returned to Vinny, who is busy kicking my ass three times a week for the past month.  His gym is tiny, with a vitamin shop in front, a hallway leading to several cardio torture devices and then the open area full of machines and free weights.  For the past few weeks I’ve been coming in, there’s been a lady running on the treadmill who appears as if she’s been running for HOURS, drenched completely head to toe. Normally I’d applaud this determination, and express a twinge of jealousy for anyone with the patience and stamina. However, this situation is different… When I know I’m going to be working out for a prolonged amount of time, I ensure that the following things are in place: deodorant, socks, deodorant, comfy sneaks, deodorant, large refillable water bottle and the most important…DEODORANT. There’s no secret…you sweat at the gym, and if you’re like this woman, you sweat oodles and oodles. I have an overly sensitive nose…so it’s amplified for me perhaps more so than others. But I never, ever, want to be the “smelly kid” in the gym.

It wasn’t acceptable in elementary/middle and high school…and it’s damn sure not acceptable now. Vinny has his store set up as an organic haven, so the first time I was on the treadmill next to this woman, I assumed her smell stemmed from the fact she must be a purist who doesn’t believe in all the chemicals in deodorant or something of that nature (even though they make a natural one…not sure if she got the memo). It’s one of those situations where you don’t want to stare as beads of sweat turn into buckets as the drop onto the treadmill track.  Note that I said don’t WANT to…more like…HAVE to. My mind starts working a million miles a minute…is she a dirty individual? No, she just must sweat a lot. Does her whole family sweat like this? Has she tried hyper hydrosis treatment? Has she been on the treadmill for hours and hours? CAN SHE NOT SMELL THE WRETCHED SCENT EMINATING FROM HER GENERAL DIRECTION? Does she think it’s me? This isn’t even the most important part. As I’m worried about being smelly, I take a great concern in making sure I make good food choices prior to getting in there. For example, it seems like a poor choice to consume an entire BAG of green giant frozen BROCCOLI for lunch. We’re adults here…and as the book says, everyone poops and so is the same for flatulence. As I’m doing squats, I’m watching the lady on the treadmill in the mirror. Sweat is literally billowing out of her…and she just seems so unfazed. It’s truly amazing.  Squat number 75 and I start smelling something new. Less like body odor, more like rotting dirty diaper. It’s not close enough to me to think the trainer did it and clearly I know that I didn’t do it…there’s no choice. It’s my smelly little friend on the treadmill. At that exact moment, I watch her do a deep lunge on the treadmill and suddenly, a new waft of gross. I have what I like to call a “stank face” expression that says, “I saw you, and are you serious?” I’ve lost all concentration and wind up falling. The thud from my fall must have startled smell-a-lotolous because the next thing I know, I hear the sound of speed…like she was running to catch herself and then…THUD….AND THEN… “pfffffffff…”

The loudest, sickest thing I’ve ever heard. YIKES lady….I give it a big yikes…and I switched my workout time for Wednesdays to avoid her from now on!


One comment to... “The Tale of Smelly McNasterson”
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bruce

yikes. though the topics are not always the most delightful, your writing is. Thanks for making me smile.




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