Am I the only dork that tears up at that Lance Armstrong Nike commercial?
I was feeling rather glum and unmotivated before I had even really started my workout challenge.
Then that commercial came on.
The dude. Had cancer. Then kicked it's ass.
And here I thought getting to the gym was a bum deal because I get home so late at night.
Cancer. Kicked it's ass.
Yeah. So he probably cheated on his wife with Sheryl Crow. I dislike her for some reason, but it has nothing to do with Mr. Livestrong. Still. Maybe his wife was a crazy bitch. Who knows.
Cancer people. All in his body. Now he rides his bike for six hours a day. I feel like a stud riding for my measly 45 minutes. SIX HOURS A DAY!
I challenge you all to do anything for six hours today.
I also challenge you to buy a yellow bracelet. I'm going to get a shirt to wear to the gym. So when my fat ass is sweating away up the pseudo gymbike hills and pumping iron in testosterone hell with Feisy and B-girl, I'm going to remember that I can fucking do anything motherfuckers.
And I look good in yellow.
Posted by debutaunt at July 7, 2005 03:37 PM