Cycling

In case you haven't noticed, we are in a weird transition time in our life right now. Thomas has NO obligations to Clemson Football for the first time in our relationship, nor does he technically have any obligations to well, anything really. He just has to work out in case a team calls and asks him for a work out and in hopeful preparation for a rookie camp in May. Therefore much of Thomas' day consists of working out, eating, reading, working out again, eating again, reading again. He's gone to a couple of my workout classes with me and needless to say, it has been hilarious. He went to yoga with me before Pro Day and he's suprisingly good at yoga since he took it as a class at Clemson last summer. Yes, he got an hour of college credit for the class. No, he didn't make an A because he "forgot" to trace his body on butcher paper for his "body chart." Anyway, half way through our yoga class he looked at me and whispered "this is really hurting my toe." (He's had turf toe ever since he messed his ankle up in November. Sorry, the newspaper doesn't seem to care about O-linemen's turf toe like they care about CJ Spiller's turf toe.) Of course I nearly lost it laughing in yoga at the thought of his TOE huring of all things, but I quickly realized that if he wasn't able to perform at Pro Day, it would be MY fault for begging him to come to yoga. And hurting his TOE.  He made it through the rest of class, but I won't allow him to come with me again.

He's also gone to cycling with me a couple of times. The last class he went to was epic. He broke TWO bikes. Create a mental image ____here____ of Thomas sweating profusely and breaking the pedal off of bike #1 during a standing sprint. It made a really loud noise. The wheel spun out of control. The teacher is one of my good friends, so of course she starts laughing up front. Thomas stomps to bike #2. I could tell he was struggling with bike #2 but I figured he was still seething from bike #1. Then I realized bike #2 was already broken BEFORE Thomas got on it. Suddlenly, bike #2's seat went crashing to the floor. Thomas was left pedaling on a bike with no seat and pedals that wouldn't work right in the first place. By this time, all of my friends are laughing hysterically, Thomas is sweating profusely and mouthing things I can't repeat. I motion for him to come get on my bike, and I move to a free bike I see in the back. Oh whatdya know, bike #3 is broken too! (Please, if you'd like to give a monetary gift to Fike Recreation Center, we'd appreciate it as the bikes are obviously in need of repair!) So I moved to seatless bike #2 and finished the class with no seat.

And Thomas will never go to cycling or yoga again.