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September 2, 2017 / themrtinney

Grunt until it hurts… or …this medicine may have side-effects

med ball

Credit: T Nation

I had this great workout at the gym today.  When I got there, I had the place all to myself, with the exception of one dude, who was sitting in a corner rocking back and forth and grunting like a wild-boar stuck in a bear trap or something.  Now, I have to admit, I’ve never come across a wild-boar, let alone one stuck in a bear trap, but I’d put some money on the idea that it sounds like this dude that was rocking back and forth in the corner of the gym.


I quickly decided to ignore this guy, pushed my ear buds in, turned up my work-out motivation music (Kid’s Bop 8) and proceeded to go directly over to the area he was at to get a better look.

So, what he was doing was some sort of pelvic thrust, medicine ball hug exercise.  Either that, or he had drilled a hole in the medicine ball and was having his way with it.  Honestly, we’ll never be sure here.

He would sort of hug it in a big bear hug with all his strength, lean into it as it sat on top of his crossed legs, and make a grunting noise with a whistling sound at the end.  The pelvic thrust seamed to be his go to move.  The medicine ball seemed unimpressed.

Now, I could no longer hear the wild-boar noises because the Kids on Kids Bop 8 were performing a stirring rendition of Kelly Clarkson’s “Since You Been Gone” in my ear buds, but I could tell he was grunting out that fantastically strange sound by the way he would grimace rhythmically.  Yes – people can grimace rhythmically.

He looked up as I was casually walking directly by him in an empty 4,000 square foot gym looking completely inconspicuous, and our eyes met for just a quick moment.  I nodded, as if to say, “I get it grunting medicine ball guy… I get it” although I completely did NOT get it and felt as though I might want to run.  He just gave me a friendly return glance that looked every so slightly apologetic, as if to say, “sorry it looks like I’m totally fucking this medicine ball in public, dude” and we parted company.

The remainder of my work-out was uneventful, except the fact that this fine young man kept switching from one size medicine ball to the next, as though he were searching for the right, eh-hem, ‘fit.’

To each his own, I suppose, but let’s just say my medicine ball tosses at the gym are on a permanent hiatus.  I just hope he stays away from the dumbbell rack, or I might have to find a new gym.


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