Workout Troubles

Dear Butch,

I get a wee bit giddy when I arrive at the gym and you are there.  Not in a creepy stalker way, but in a total school girl crush way.  My face becomes flushed and I start to worry if my messy high bun looks alright.  I have caught myself watching you work out, getting lost in your strength and sports bra.  I especially enjoy when you really get into whatever you are listening to on your iPod and start to swoosh your non-existent pony tail.  It is all sorts of adorable.

Your gorgeous body makes me want to work out harder.  I push myself to lift more and bike faster.  I stay longer than what I had talked myself into while laying on the couch prior to working out and I go more days a week then what I have scheduled.  All in hopes that someday someone as handsome and dedicated as you will fall for someone like me.  Or at the least notice that I, a curvy femme, exist in your sculpted world.  And maybe to score one for the plus size girls who get passed by because of the number on the tag of their dresses.  To prove that girls of my size can be strong and attractive.  That we do work hard to build our bodies and improve our health.

I don’t think you have ever looked at me for longer then a second or two, in passing from one machine to the next. I hope someday that will change.  At least throw a head nod my way.




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