Riley Harlow (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} punchout) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} paxletalelogs,@ 2010-08-03 16:18:00 |
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What: A good old-fashioned spar
Where: A local gym
When: Early afternoon
Warnings: Snark, egos clashing, and discussion of fighting techniques.
To Riley, laziness was a strange thing. When she was being lazy, she would skip out on one workout with another. So instead of performing a bench press, she would curl. Or instead of push-ups, she would do sit-ups. And today, she decided that she was far too exhausted to walk all the way to her preferred gym; so instead, she walked to another gym that was just two blocks closer. It didn't occur to her that this was a ridiculous compromise until she entered the unfamiliar territory, realizing that all gyms were not created equal.
The manager of the gym recognized her, allowing her passage inside. But that didn't change the fact that everything was different. The weights were somewhere else, the punching bags were hard to find, and all the machines were wrong. She could have just left and sucked up the extra two blocks to her home base, but that would mean admitting defeat. And Riley did not admit defeat.
If she were thinking about this clearly, she might have found an amusing "we're not in Kansas anymore" message in all of this given that her fire engine red hair was arranged in two French-braided pigtails. And really, she did feel a bit like Dorothy in Oz. The other patrons looked at her with a mixture of annoyance and amusement as she stumbled around, awkwardly craning her neck to try and read labels and find things. Finally, she had found the wall of dumbbells and was looking at them, squinting to try and read the numbers. They were faded, which automatically made them annoying. Resting her hands on her hips, she leaned forward to squint at them. This was going to be a long work-out.