I have been called a lot of things in my life, and ‘Girlie’ is definitely one of them. I don’t consider this even remotely offensive, however. I actually epitomize throwing like a girl, it looks more like a poor attempt at shot putting than a real effort to throw something. The fact is, I am a girl and I embrace most Girlie things:
When it comes to exercising at the gym, I’ve historically been pretty Girlie as well – tending towards Step Classes, Yoga and using the Elliptical rather than using the weights in the section I still refer to as the ‘Big Boys Gym’. Obviously, working with the Irish Sadist (aka my Personal Trainer) has changed this in a big way. Not only do I use the Big Boys Gym with frequency now, but I’ve also tried boxing, Olympic lifts and can pretty much toss around a Kettlebell like a pro.
I have been whimpering a bit about how all the weight training (and that #%&*ing rowing machine) has been ruining my previously prized Girlie hands. After a lifetime of minimal manual labour and maximal pampering, I had previously been the owner of a beautiful pair of soft and supple hands. Now my poor little mitts are littered with calluses and blisters! Okay, well there are like at least four marks on my hands – or should I say, my MAN HANDS.
Anywho, while at the gym yesterday morning I had a few not-so-graceful moves with a Kettlebell that I happily blamed on sweaty palms. After Sadist demonstrated the next torturous move for me to attempt, he noted that the Kettlebell was actually slippery. He then continued on to say “With sweat, it normally evaporates between sets, you must have cream or something on you hands.” To this I responded that I likely had residual moisturizer on my hands at all times, and then rambled on about the various moisturizers, creams, lotions and serums that my hands come in contact with on a daily basis. Sadist just shook his head and said “Stop being.. so… FEMALE!”
I guess my hands are still Girlie after all!