So my friend and I noticed toward the end of our freshman year (thanks to our loving parents that told us over Christmas break), that we had gained a few pounds. So we decided to work out Tuesday and Thursday mornings. Since we
My mouth dropped, Daddy Bush, running where I was supposed to run. I was so mad, but I couldn't be mad at anyone other than myself. That was supposed to be my treadmill. If I had only dragged my butt out of bed, I could have been "this" (imagine my fingers very close together) close to a former POTUS. It was my chance, and I blew it.
You think that would have motivated me to go to the gym and I was for a short while, but then, a month or so later, I skipped again. And guess what....he was there again. This time, my friend hadn't gone either but we both heard rumors around campus that he was there and when we asked another friend who often was there at the same time as us, sure enough, he had stopped by for a little exercise. She told us we should have expected it because he had a program that night so he was in town, but come on people, what are the odds! I am still bitter. And I think that is why I still don't like working on in gyms, either that or I am lazy. And that is how I almost met Daddy Bush.
PS -Craig and I really didn't plan on having three gym related posts all in a row.
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