Yellow Hand \o/ – plasticbagger

the Yellow Hand is beaming. giving another crowded night at planet fitness a thumbs up. so many people with memberships. they come to lift heavy objects. shifting between pews of workout equipment, hoping not to set off the Lunk Alarm. others walk, run, jog in place. or dig their knees into purple yoga mats. their strained sweat covered faces don’t suggest enjoyment. though maybe some are having a good time. i’ve recently realized so much of life is forcing one’s self to do stuff which might not immediately be pleasurable in the expectation — no more like hope — of a larger sense of satisfaction later down the line. 

there is candy in a bucket at the entrance at all times. no wonder more cynical souls call this place “Planet Fatness.” the bucket, always about 60% full. has everyone been good at resisting, or am i being fooled by deliberate design? a tiny temptation at the start and end of every work out. because if everyone had the willpower for 6 pack abs and sexy biceps, then we could get too confident, and stop coming completely. Like i did. for many, many months. slowly but surely diving deeper deeper down the proverbial bucket of candy. Until finally the image of that Yellow Hand became unbearable. never once did its thumb waver. even when i did.