The Colvin Center is where I go three or four times a week so I can feel bad

I'll just be over here, struggling on the abs machine, please don't Spartan kick me into that pit of doom there. Yes, the Colvin Center has a pit of doom.

about my physique and avoid eye contact with people who are bigger than me.  (For those of you not Familiar with Oklahoma State, The Colvin is a huge gym.)  In my time spent trying to inconspicuously use the weight machines without looking like a 14 year old who purchased a gym membership after watching the movie 300, I’ve made some observations.

I frequently notice THAT guy. The guy strutting out of one of the basketball courts, trying and failing to showcase his mad ups by jumping and not touching the ceiling.  Body built like a 5’7″ chicken nugget (made with 100% white meat!), he was wearing a sleeveless red t-shirt, tall socks, too long jean shorts, and basketball shoes.  But you can’t judge a book by its cover right? He’s got a beady-eyed, shifty smile and a less than healthy love of watching douchebags play with each other’s junk on Jackass. The guy who’s sense of humor entails using the f word (you pick which one) at least 3 times in every sentence before he hits you in the balls.  You know, THAT guy.   All I’ve got to say is, you sir, are not a baller.

The Colvin is filled with ridiculously attractive girls.  Normally the presence of a bunch of cute girls is a plus, but the gym is not my element.  I’m a small fish in that pool of testosterone and sweat.  One strategy I’ve learned to make myself look more appealing in comparison is to use the machine next to the guy in the Halo t-shirt, making awkward sex noises as he uses the buns-o-matic machine.  I’m a shallow bastard, I know. In most situations, I consider myself fairly attractive physically, but at the Colvin I’m pretty low on the pectoral totem pole.  Thus, the cute girls don’t seem to pay me any notice when I walk by, chest stuck out and racquetball racket in hand.  *sigh*

Working out is boring.

The All American Rejects were on the ellipticals at the Colvin this morning.  I would be lying if I said I didn’t have any AAR on my iPod but, yeah.  It’s because they’re famous and from Stillwater, don’t be hatin’.

The Super Bowl is today.  I find it really hard to make myself care. It’s not because I’m that nerd who doesn’t understand football (I know that’s what you’re thinking). It’s because of all the drama in the NFL this year.  The possibility of strikes and labor disputes has shown me how the players are just a bunch of divas, who care more about making money than about winning or losing.  When you’re making tens of millions of dollars a year playing a game, I think you can suck it up, play your game, and make millions of dollars.  But that’s just me. I may just be bitter that the Vikings sucked this year (thank God Childress is gone), but I find it incredibly difficult to care about professional football these days.

I’m cheering for the nachos and lil’ smokies.