smash_logs | PUT AWAY YOUR SHAKE WEIGHT. GET A REAL WORKOUT. BE A REAL MAN. OR WOMAN. GO LIFTING WITH MAX.

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PUT AWAY YOUR SHAKE WEIGHT. GET A REAL WORKOUT. BE A REAL MAN. OR WOMAN. GO LIFTING WITH MAX.

Who: Max and YOU and your intense feelings of inadequacy.
What: WORKING OUT IN THE WEIGHT ROOM
Where: THE WEIGHT ROOM
When: EVERY TIME August 8th - 21st
Warnings: 150% TESTOSTERONE. Max may swear at some point.

After spending two weeks as a venusaur, and not being able to work out, Max returned to his normal self. He could still feel the shameful, shameful potbelly that he used to have as a venusaur. Two weeks of not working out is like two weeks of wasted life for Max. And now he doesn't have all of those darned classes to take getting in the way of getting in a real workout. As if somehow six hours of weightlifting a day hadn't been a real workout before.

So anyway. Max is pretty much living in the weight room when he isn't doing his cardio in the mornings, having a meal, or sleeping. Or teaching the occasional class. But he's happy to take out some time to show new students around the weight room, or to help the less muscular set up some sort of workout routine. Need a spotter for the bench press? Max is your man. He may be wearing a tank top that says this on it.

((START A THREAD, GIVE A TIME, PUT ON YOUR HEADBANDS AND GYM SHORTS, AND TURN UP THE CLASSIC ROCK-SLASH-PUNK. YOU'RE IN MAX'S WORLD NOW.))

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And that's when the door swang open and Max stepped out.

And he saw, uh, that kid who screams like a little girl standing there. What's his name. Max can't remember. So he'll call you kid now.

"Hey, kid, you need somethin'?" Max asked.

Oh. Oh no. It was that ignorant behemoth who totaled his door. And said he screamed like a girl.

Bristling, Jeff frowned at the name. "First of all, the name's Jeff. And second..." he tried to glance around the giant man and into the weight room, "I was... thinking about using the equipment in there."

"Alright," said Max to Jeff, the boy who shrieks like a girl, "Jeff. You had an introduction to the weight room before? Somebody show you how to use the stuff and not get hurt?"

Is Max the self-proclaimed boss/nanny of the weight room? Yes. Yes, he is.

At least the hooligan had the brains to address him properly. Jeff still didn't like the idea of being in close quarters with this man for any longer than was necessary. Especially not when he was treating Jeff like some uneducated child.

"No, I haven't had an introduction. But assuming it's just like any other weight room or gym equipment, it shouldn't be too difficult to figure it out."

"Well, about half of it's regular gym equipment and the other stuff ain't. Custom made stuff. You think I got this way by usin' the kinda stuff the average gym's got?" and here, gentle reader, Max brought his right arm down so that his forearm was in front of his stomach and Max flexed his bicep for Jeff. ~~U jelly???~~

"So you gotta know what you can use and what you can't, or you could hurt yourself. I can point out the stuff not to use for you, if you want."

Alright, so maybe the brute had a point. If half of these machines really were custom made. "I... suppose so."

Jeff pointedly ignored the obvious flexing. In his opinion, being overly muscular was such a turn-off. There was no way Jeff ever wanted to be that physically large. Disgusting.

"Well?" the blond started to tap his foot. "If you're in charge of this weight room, then explain already."

You're jealous and you know it.

"Alright, sure," said Max, as he stepped back into the weightroom so that Jeffery Angelus could enter and see the weightroom in all of its masculine glory.

Max started pointing things out. "Alright, stuff you shouldn't use... the A.B.S. is over there and the BI-CEPSTONATOR[tm] is next to it," he said. "There's signs next to 'em tellin' you who can use him. Then there's the DELT-O-MAX and the MAX-O-PEC[tm] over there," he said, waving at some strange looking contraptions. "QUADZILLA's over there and then there's the L.A.T.S.," he continued. "And the GRAV-U-CHAMBER[tm]. And the CALF-BLASTER."

Jeff knew that work-out equipment often had lame names, but these were just god awful. Staring at the machines, they appeared just as bad. Some of them looked more like torture contraptions than anything else.

"Right..." He was definitely not using those death-traps. But thankfully there were some regular-looking machines too. "There are normal weights too, correct? Dumbbells and such?"

"Yeah, lots," said Max, pointing to the dumbbell rack against one of the walls. "Just stay away from the adjustable ones that're on a rack by themselves, those go up to like 800 pounds."

800 pounds. 800 pounds. "... 800 pounds?"

That was impossible. Like physically impossible. Who the hell could possibly lift 800 pounds of--

Jeff stared at Max.

Oh. Right.

"God, this school..." he muttered to himself, checking out the normal, nonadjustable dumbbells.

"Yeah, I do that," said Max. "You can use the regular adjustable dumbbells if you want." He'd gotten the set for girls on the football team out for Azelf. They were on the floor. Max pointed at them with his boot. "They go from 5 pounds to 50 in 2.5 pound steps."

"Alright..." Now that sounded more manageable. Probably a good idea to start slow and light. It had been a while since Jeff had lifted weights.

Or worked out in any way, shape, or form.

Thinking about it, he realized that this may take a while. And Max was still there, his sweaty presence was hard to ignore. If there was one thing Jeff valued above all else, it was his privacy.

Carefully, he picked up the 5 pound weights. Then he stared at Max. Silently sending mental vibes for him to leave Jeff the fuck alone. While the blond had tact, hopefully the big oaf would at least notice and understand the sudden glare of annoyance and expectation thrown in his direction.

"You doin' aerobics? 'Cause those weights are way the heck too small unless you're gonna do aerobics to do you any good. Start with the fifteens and see how hard that is for you," said Max.

He is totally not leaving. In fact, he appears to be micromanaging your workout.

Oh dear god no. The oaf was trying to give him tips. Like Jeff didn't know how to use basic gym equipment.

... Okay so maybe it had been a while. And he always had his trainer around to spot him and suggest what to do next. But like hell he was going to follow the blue haired dunce's suggestions and--

Jeff stared down at the weight in his hand. And then at the other weights still on the floor. Oh god he wasn't actually thinking of...

With a frown, he swapped weights. The fifteens were easy enough to use.

"There you go, that's a lot better ain't it?" Max asked. "Do twenty reps at that weight and see if you burn out. If you don't you should move up to 20s and see what you can do there."

Max will. Be your personal trainer.

Jeff did as he was told. It was... odd, all things considered. He still hated the large man, broken door and insulted yelling and all. But if there was one thing that the blond could appreciate, it was order. Direction. Rules and regulations.

Frankly, he didn't know much about working out. Only that doing it on a regular basis was good for the body. He supposed it would've been easy enough to research, but why bother when there was already someone else who could tell you about it? That was like making yourself a cup of tea when a butler was standing right there. What a waste of service.

Still... Jeff supposed that if the blue haired doofus was going to help him, then he might as well pretend to civil. "So," the blond continued his reps, "how often do you work out?" To get results like that, the expected answer was every day.

This terrible oaf of a man is one of your instructors now, Jeffums. Never forget this.

"Me? Six hours a day, six days a week. An hour of cardio and an hour of weights in the mornin', then two hours of weights in the afternoon and another two in the evenin'," said Max. "I break the days down by body part, so like arms, forearms, chest, abs is Monday, back and shoulders is Tuesday, Wednesday's quads, calves and abs, that sorta thing."

Max has no life.

Six hours a day, six days a week? Jeez. That was some schedule. Did Max do anything other than sleep, eat, and work out?

Oh right, he was a teacher now. File 'teaching class' in that list. Somewhere. Somehow.

Finishing the reps, he put the weights down and picked up the 20s. "Do you even have free time?" Not that Jeff was genuinely curious about the oaf's life. But if nothing else, the blond like to be knowledgeable about those around him.

"Yeah I got loads of free time compared to when I was a student here," said Max. "Heck, six hours a day is less than most people work, and I get started at 5am, so I've got the first two hours done by 7am, and I've got the rest of the mornin' to do whatever."

"Tell me if you hit your limit with the 20s or not," Max instructed. Sorry, Jeff, you didn't look all that strong to Max. So he was betting you'd struggle with this.

Though you could surprise him and be able to use the 25s. Surprise him, Jeff.

One of Jeff's eyebrows rose. "Honestly? How did you have less free time as a student?" Clubs and after school activities were one thing. But surely even as a faculty member, Max wouldn't stop doing those sorts of things. Was it the homework? Jeff bet it was the homework.

Max. Max no. You did not just challenge him. Sure the blond couldn't lift as much as the blue haired gorilla, but god damn if he was going to let anyone think lowly of him.

Finishing the reps, he picked up the 25s. Oh okay that was kind of heavy. But Jeff could do it. He totally could. Look at him go. And okay maybe struggling after only one lift and starting to get winded but he got this. For serious.

"Careful, you'll throw somethin' out if you go at it that hard," said Max. "You can't get stronger if you get laid up."

"I'm fine," the blond grunted at he continued lifting the weights. He could do this. He'd show that blue haired orangutan not to underestimate Jeff Angel. The tingling pain running through his arms didn't mean anything. No pain, no gain, right?

Although he slowed down a bit at the end, he managed to get through the reps. Putting down the 25s, Jeff took a few deep breaths. Ugh, he was already starting to sweat. He could use a towel. And some water.

"Careful of your shoulders, you were doin' more than you shoulda," said Max. "Tomorrow you're not gonna be able to wash your hair. Your arms won't go up."

"You tryin' to go for hypertropy or you tryin' to go for strength trainin'?" Max asked. "Workin' like that's only good if you're tryin' to build up a lot of muscle," said Max. You don't seem the type, Jeff.

"What?" The hair comment confused him a little. Did pushing himself like that really have such dire consequences? Jeff wasn't exactly feeling any serious pain at the moment. He hoped that Max was joking around.

He huffed at Max's question. So was everything he just did pointless? God Max, you were the worst exercise helper ever. "Not really. Only trying to build back what I already had. Mostly I'm just trying to get back--" the blond quickly corrected himself, "--to stay in shape."

Yes, Jeff. It did. Tomorrow. You will feel such pains. And the day after. You will also feel such pains. It takes hours for the acid (yes, acid) to build up in your muscles.

Have a wonderful next two days, Jeff Angel.

"So if you don't wanna build much more muscle, you don't wanna work like that. You wanna do maybe four sets at a weight that's not easy but ain't hard for you to do. Don't work till you burn out like that. You'll build up some lean muscle that way, but nothin' crazy."

Come on, Jeff. Everyone knows this.

WHAT CLASSIC ROCK AND OR PUNK SONG IS PLAYING ON THE RADIO AT THIS MOMENT

I do not listen to classics UUUUHHHH - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i9t6IqYtccs

IT FEELS VERY 80S IN HERE TO ME

don't judge me bro

Re: don't judge me bro

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Gosh I loved making up this list

what a beauteous list of manly machines

Jeffery Angelos you are an unpleasable jerk

just doin my duty as a goodhorrible citizen

More like... badgreat... citizen

he is the best at being the worst

Re: he is the best at being the worst

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HOW MANY REPS DID HE DO is it three I bet it was three

NU-UH! it was totally an amazing number like 5 or 6

Four.