Thor’s Hammer, Wonder Woman Panties, and Other Weightlifting Adventures

On rare occasions, Marovich will ‘fess up that she’s genetically gifted. She’s that freak of nature friend we all have in our lives with an innate physical advantage over the rest of us mere mortals. That being said, she works very hard at maintaining her superlative physical condition. I’ve witnessed her beating many a man at arm wrestling–even my sushi chef friend in Florida.

 

Those ARMS...!

Those ARMS…! I nicknamed her “MUBS” back in high school–Massive Upper Body Strength

 

Olympic athletes have nothing over Marovich (other than millions of dollars, cereal box covers, and those pesky medals).

Some faster dialer robbed us of our normal racquetball court time last night, so we had to improvise our workout. The moment I walked in the door with my 10-pound kettle bells, Marovich blew me shit about my v-necked Batman tee, a new wardrobe asset from #C2E2 last weekend: “Really?!? A BATMAN t-shirt?!?” With anyone else, I might’ve been self-conscious, but this is my BFF since 7th grade, and this is the nature of our relationship. Like sisters who never stop slinging the insults. Our friend Chrissy was there and she liked my shirt, so I felt exonerated.

As for my 10-pound kettle bells, Marovich wasn’t having it. That 5’4″ drill sergeant commanded me to use Thor’s Hammer (her 20-pound dumb bell) for my tricep curls. I was dying after 6 reps. All I could think to myself was “Who am I going to hire to help me remove my sports bra when I get home?” because there was no lifting my arms above my head after 30 reps with Thor’s Hammer. (I ended up sleeping in it.)

However, Marovich managed to insert some comedy into the torture. I made the offhanded comment that even my Wonder Woman underwear wasn’t boosting my strength. “Wait a minute!” she stopped me. “YOU’RE wearing Wonder Woman underwear?!? Let me see.” I dropped trou, presented proof, and quickly redressed as Marovich doubled over laughing at me. (We do that a lot, I’m sure you’ve gathered.)

Wonder Woman Underwear

My Wonder Woman Underwear

We were in her 2nd floor loft working out, and she triple-dog dared me to strip down to just my Wonder Woman panties and Batman tee, continuing my workout looking ridiculous, like this was the new normal. I took the dare. She yelled down to Chrissy to grab us two ice cubes (that’s always a “tell” when Marovich is pranking someone – those obscure requests that make no sense at the time) so Chrissy was delayed in coming upstairs. This bought me enough time to undress, resume weight lifting, and look like nothing was up. Chrissy arrived with the two ice cubes, froze in her tracks, processed for a moment, and with a half-smile said finally, “I didn’t know you had a pierced belly button!” This made me double over laughing, because Chrissy just stole Marovich’s thunder, not delivering the shocked reaction she was expecting.

Marovich tried re-selling it. “Do you see her Wonder Woman underwear?!?”

Chrissy countered, What’s the big deal? You have Batman underwear.”

‘Nuff said.

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