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supersizeme
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Started leg day today at around 11:30am as always on Tuesday. I'm normally strictly a windpants-only guy since I'm whiter than a sheet of typing paper that's been dipped in bleach and just had the shit scared out of it. But recently I've warmed up to shorts again since I feel it's selfish of me to deny the women in the gym a glimpse of the powdered sugary yet well muscled heaven that is my lower half.
I'm into my working sets of squats starting at 245. I move up to 260 and then it happens. On the bottom of my fourth rep(I go down so low that my ass always comes back up with a layer of limestone on it and I'm dusting fossils off my upper hams in between sets), I'm hit with that faintly familiar feeling that someone just lightly kicked me in the ass. I know exactly what happened, and immediately I thought to myself, "So, Arch Nemesis Squat-Induced Split Shorts, I see we meet again. And this time the advantage is yours." The last time we met was about 2-3 years ago, and then it was my boxers splitting, but I had windpants on so it was alright. Nothing to see there. But this time it was the all-cotton green striped Kool-Aid man that was my boxers busting out of the dark blue nylon Umbro brick wall housing my glutes. Despite my concentration being all busted like AAP's corn and bunion infested feet, I blocked it out and managed to hit a PR. After the set I then proceeded to look about as gay as is possible in a gym checking out my ass in the mirror and seeing the rip in my shorts exposing my still intact boxers. Awesome.
I still had two more sets to go and decided that I wasn't going to be defeated this easily, so I loaded up 275 and rang the bell for the next round. On each of the next four reps, the rip expanded just a little bit more. This is about as much weight as I'm capable of doing for 5 reps without the added bonus of knowing that my shorts are ripping clear off my ass. A quarter of the way up on my 5th rep, my focus shot out the window like a liberated parakeet and I knew I wasn't making it up, so I had to dump. This is the first time I've ever had to dump in a squat rack. I've done it in a power rack before with the safety pins just below parallel, but dumping in a squat rack is a whole different bowl of cereal. For me it was dropping down to ass-to-floor level, then good-morninging the weight down another 6 inches. This is hard enough to do without 275lbs on my back. I'm surprised I didn't shit everywhere to be honest with you, but I eventually managed to get out from underneath it.
I normally rep out another set at 225, but by this point the rip in my shorts is pretty bad. I took a raincheck on 225 and did hack squats with one more set than I usually do. I had to forego lying leg curls for obvious reasons, and vowed to hit hammies later in the week. After I finished the workout, I went into the bathroom, took off my shorts and boxers, then put just the shorts back on. I went out in front of all the people on the treadmills and bent over to pick up trash on the ground that wasn't there. After about 5-10 minutes of this, management came over and informed me that they have gym employees to handle this and maybe I should just stop immediately. I complied and left the gym.
On the way out I ran into the beautiful blonde cardio girl I see everyday who was on her way in. I held the door open for her and managed to blurt out the most idiotic sounding combination of "no problem" and "hi" after she thanked me. I'm pretty sure she hasn't stopped thinking about me all day.
Here's the shorts I ripped with my cat proudly occupying the hole I made.
I'm into my working sets of squats starting at 245. I move up to 260 and then it happens. On the bottom of my fourth rep(I go down so low that my ass always comes back up with a layer of limestone on it and I'm dusting fossils off my upper hams in between sets), I'm hit with that faintly familiar feeling that someone just lightly kicked me in the ass. I know exactly what happened, and immediately I thought to myself, "So, Arch Nemesis Squat-Induced Split Shorts, I see we meet again. And this time the advantage is yours." The last time we met was about 2-3 years ago, and then it was my boxers splitting, but I had windpants on so it was alright. Nothing to see there. But this time it was the all-cotton green striped Kool-Aid man that was my boxers busting out of the dark blue nylon Umbro brick wall housing my glutes. Despite my concentration being all busted like AAP's corn and bunion infested feet, I blocked it out and managed to hit a PR. After the set I then proceeded to look about as gay as is possible in a gym checking out my ass in the mirror and seeing the rip in my shorts exposing my still intact boxers. Awesome.
I still had two more sets to go and decided that I wasn't going to be defeated this easily, so I loaded up 275 and rang the bell for the next round. On each of the next four reps, the rip expanded just a little bit more. This is about as much weight as I'm capable of doing for 5 reps without the added bonus of knowing that my shorts are ripping clear off my ass. A quarter of the way up on my 5th rep, my focus shot out the window like a liberated parakeet and I knew I wasn't making it up, so I had to dump. This is the first time I've ever had to dump in a squat rack. I've done it in a power rack before with the safety pins just below parallel, but dumping in a squat rack is a whole different bowl of cereal. For me it was dropping down to ass-to-floor level, then good-morninging the weight down another 6 inches. This is hard enough to do without 275lbs on my back. I'm surprised I didn't shit everywhere to be honest with you, but I eventually managed to get out from underneath it.
I normally rep out another set at 225, but by this point the rip in my shorts is pretty bad. I took a raincheck on 225 and did hack squats with one more set than I usually do. I had to forego lying leg curls for obvious reasons, and vowed to hit hammies later in the week. After I finished the workout, I went into the bathroom, took off my shorts and boxers, then put just the shorts back on. I went out in front of all the people on the treadmills and bent over to pick up trash on the ground that wasn't there. After about 5-10 minutes of this, management came over and informed me that they have gym employees to handle this and maybe I should just stop immediately. I complied and left the gym.
On the way out I ran into the beautiful blonde cardio girl I see everyday who was on her way in. I held the door open for her and managed to blurt out the most idiotic sounding combination of "no problem" and "hi" after she thanked me. I'm pretty sure she hasn't stopped thinking about me all day.
Here's the shorts I ripped with my cat proudly occupying the hole I made.
in your shorts is kind of comical too.
