Arm Envy

I’m not sure exactly when it started, but I have arm-envy. While I appreciate the fact that my arms are a lot stronger than they used to be, they still aren’t as defined as certain other ladies’ arms. (I think I’ve been noticing them more lately since I’ve been putting more emphasis on building my strength and trying to do “real” pushups.)

On Monday, MizFit posted a video demonstrating some moves you can do at home to work your triceps. In the comments, I wasn’t the only one to ooh and aah over her arms.

Ever since last Friday when I got my brother to demonstrate his ability to do pushups, I’ve asked a few other people if they’re able to do “real” pushups. And just last night, when I was walking through Old Town with my roommate and our friend K.T., I was telling them the same thing. When I told K.T. about forcing my brother to do pushups at 11:30pm, he immediately said, “There is no way I’m getting down on this cobblestone sidewalk and doing pushups for you.”

So then, of course, he had to. And K.T. is just the kind of person who can be sweet-talked into doing something like that. I made him wait until we got to the next intersection (one of the busiest in Old Town Alexandria — King and Washington, if you’re familiar with the area). When we got there, he dropped down to the ground and did a single pushup. I was content with that. He did it so quickly that I didn’t think anyone else had seen him, until I turned around and saw a parking-enforcement officer standing a few feet away, cracking up. “That’s wrong,” he said, shaking his head. “That’s just wrong, man.”

(I like the fact that I have arm-envy. If given the choice between that or my previous stick-arms? I’ll choose the former any day.)

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