I Smell Like a Goat

Ah, the joys of exercise. . .

Watching the taut, firm, fit people around me effortlessly glide through their various pit stops in the gym circuit du jour. . .

Seeing the muscle men strain and grunt lifting massive amounts of weight and then letting it drop to the floor in an earthshaking exhibition of all that is "He-Man" in their workout . . .

Turning on my special motivational playlist which is all about kicking butt and taking names . . .

and coming home smelling like a goat.

There must be something I am doing wrong. Offhand, I don't know what it might be, but when I manage to offend MYSELF, I know that it's time to head out the door and go home to hit the shower . . . and maybe stay there for a week.

The taut, the firm and the musclebound seldom sweat. Oh sure, once in a while I'll see a bead or two of perspiration trickle down to their chin, but I'm not seeing the buckets of life rolling from their pores.

On the other hand, I leave puddles everywhere I go even on days where I haven't been in the pool. Faithfully, I sanitize and wipe up after myself to remove both the "ick factor" and the sheer grossness of having to see that puddle of ooze on the equipment I have given my all to use.

Today was a cross training day.

Then, to prove how awesome I truly am, I came home and moved furniture in preparation for wedding guest.

Just when I was feeling like the most excellent woman in America, or at least in the SEC, for all of my hard work both outside and inside the home, the central system's automatic fan kicked on to stir the air in the Merrill Casa and the goat-like aroma of my being assaulted my eyes, my nostrils and my decency.

HOLY FLAMING COW PIES ON STEROIDS!!! I NEED A BATH!! UGH!

When other people leave the gym, they seem to be glowing with a healthy countenance and the ability to go to town and do their shopping and errands. I leave the gym with the distinct ability to offend skunks and ruin my reputation. Well, what's left of it at this point...

Where is the justice?

I have to come to grips with the fact that I am not going to just slip quietly out and go about my day. I should just plan to run through the car wash that is a scant few blocks from the gym and call it good. I do wonder though... do they have a "frequent flier" program so I can save a few bucks on that whole pass through each day?

Since I have somewhat of a phobia about public showers, I generally drag my sweat stained carcass home and shower so that I have the blessing of my shower and my creature comforts which I am not compelled to share with people who may have the blue goofus fungus on every single cell in their body.

Today, I delayed the shower to get something resembling housework done. Well... "DONE" is a strong statement. More like beat down into a relative submission for the three rooms I have called "good" over.

Now, it's time for this goat . . . uh, GIRL, to hit the shower in earnest. Otherwise, the scent will permeate the entire house forever. And I'm sure that would create a journal moment for our guests that I'd just rather not contemplate.

Calgon... take me away!! Just don't bring me back until I smell like a floral meadow instead of a meadow muffin.