Getting the shaft
Are bouncing breasts and dangling dicks a pain in the gym? Our male and female reporters trade parts to find out how the other half gives.
Tue Sep 9 2008
Nice cans! At least, that’s what I thought while checking myself out using the chest-spotlighting pec-deck apparatus. An immediate benefit of pouring a jiggly silicone pair of 44DDs into my Kmart sports bra is that I no longer have to worry about getting into trouble for leering at women in tight-fitting workout clothes—now I can just second-base myself. Admittedly, lots of spectators were watching me out of the corner of their eyes, I think because of the dubious combo of scraggly beard and slightly crooked fun bags. For an attentionmonger like myself, the horrified glances weren’t so bad, but it did occur to me that women at the gym—especially on certain bust-focused equipment—must feel pretty exposed. The treadmill was where trouble began. I immediately noticed the weight that the twins added to my usual stride. I tried convincing myself that they gave me a new momentum that, instead of hindering my marathon hopes, would actually help propel me forward. Truth is they are something of a hindrance, and it’s kind of tough to get a decent rhythm with them flopping every which way.
I experienced no chronic back problems or sore nipples; the problem that plagued me the most was the punching-bag effect that occurred when doing arm curls. Though this was catnip to my perpetually fifth-grade male mentality, had the boobs actually been attached to my chest, the overwhelming feeling would’ve likely been one of pain, not fascination.