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Don't you hate it when this happens to you?
Thursday, March 22, 2007
One of the biggest problems I have during the busy season of my job is squeezing time to work out. Being out of town for the last few weeks hasn't been as bad as my local jobs. Still, I find myself getting out at 7, and by the time I'm done with dinner and situated in my hotel room it's pretty much 8-8:30pm. Not exactly the perfect time to go jogging at night.

So the other day I decided shoot... I need to get my a$$ out of bed and work out in the morning. After all, I'm in the beautiful desert, staying at a nice resort that has an awesome 24 hr fitness center. So I got up around 6:20am (I have no idea how I managed it) and put on my workout clothes. I actually debated whether or not to put on makeup (not a ton, but just a little of my bare minerals) because man oh man, I was looking beat. My face was dry, eyes were crusty, and I had a few lines on my cheek from sleeping on my side. Basically I was looking "toe up," as my girls Dylan and Holly would say. I shrugged off the thought and gathered my hair up in a sloppy ponytail. I thought to myself "no one has ever been in the fitness room the last times you went at night, and if someone is there, most likely it will be a senior citizen."

So off I go jogging to the fitness center, which is quite a jog from my room. As I'm getting closer, I notice a guy standing next to the golf carts just leaning casually by the steps/entryway to the fitness club. Ohhhh my goodness. This guy was HOT. He was wearing a polo shirt and khakis, probably a golf instructor working at the resort, waiting for someone to show up for their golf lesson. I immediately regretted not having freshened up more. At least put on some face lotion! I still had the freakin lines on my face, and I swear I could not have looked more hideous.

"Good morning m'aam."

"Good morning."

"You heading to the fitness center?"

"Uhh yah" (as I shyly smile)

"Do you know where to go?"

Yah at this point, I'm thinking... well yes I know where to go, but I might as well let him point it out for me.

"No, is this it that way, or on the other side?"

"You go straight down there, through the archway then down the end of the hall."

"Great! Thanks for your help!" (oops, did my voice just get a tad too peppy?)

"No problem. Glad I could help. Enjoy your workout."

I quickly rushed off, my face probably flushed and feeling all giddy inside, yet embarrassed as heck. *sigh* I've been here for 5 weeks now and the ONE time I see a guy under age 50 (with the added bonus of being flippin hot) I'm looking worse than my driver's license picture. Well, looking on the bright side, I'd say if that's not motivation to get up early to work out, I don't know what is. Tomorrow morning I'm gonna head over there again, but this time I'll make sure I'm looking decent. Knowing my luck though, gorgeous golf instructor man won't be there when I'm looking better. Dang, the irony.


posted by Daphne @ 11:19 PM  
  • At 6:57 PM, Blogger Mormishmom said…

    Was he there? I love your story and it sounds like something I would have done back in me single days. Your story made me laugh. Keep posting!

  • At 7:14 AM, Blogger Isabel said…

    awww man that sucks. But yeah, isn't that how it normally goes. Sigh. Hope he's there again.

  • At 10:25 AM, Blogger Charm School Reject said…

    That has happened to me on more occassions than I care to remember except mine were running to the grocery store at midnight or the gast station at the crack of dawn. I've never been in the position of running into a hot guy on my way to work out. But then again, I don't work out.

  • At 9:52 AM, Blogger Jazz said…

    Oh girl that sucks! lol. Now I want to know if he was there the next time you went! Get his number chicky! Hook it up. Okay that's enough of my ghetto talk.

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Who Is Daphne?

Name: Daphne
Home: California, United States
About Me: I love to read, especially romance books. I love to play, especially computer games and puzzles. I love to dance, especially lindy hop. I love my family and friends.
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