• Let's see, let's see, where to begin.

    Well, it was winter. For gym period, our gym teachers obviously couldn't let us outside in the freezing weather unless they wanted homicide, and an instant job firing. So instead, they gave us a choice. Volleyball or weight room. Okay, it wasn't much of a choice, one class (the period was split between two different classes) went to do the weights, and the other would have to hit a deflated white ball across a net. And naturally, my class had to go to the weight room.

    Normally, all the boys will be psyched and super-pumped and "Oh hey, watch me lift 100 pounds!" But the girls on the other hand were less jazzed about the idea. We'd rather be playing volleyball any day then lift blocks connected to some wiring and a pole. And also, all the good machines were taking by the guys.

    Looking around for a machine that suited me, I choose this machine (I forgot it's name) where you had to sit down, buckle in with some seatbelt, set a weight, and try to bring it down and up, down and up, repeatedly.

    After a few reps and sets, I was getting tired. I was about to quit when some guy came over. Now, this dude could be considered the school jerk at occasions.

    "Here, put it at one hundred pounds," he said, taking the pin and placing it in the weight for- you guessed it- one hundred pounds.

    "Are you trying to kill me?" I ask, but I try anyways. I cannot pull the bars down! The jerkface starts laughing, and I desperately want to release to bars and make the weights slam, but I for some vague reason, I keep trying.

    Just when the bars are almost down, the seatbelt SNAPS and I'm dangling in the air, and the jerk (along with some of his buddies) are laughing their thick heads off. Eventually, the teacher comes over, yells a bit and them and me, and shuts down the machine until the seatbelt could be fixed.

    And that's the flashback of the time where I couldn't lift a weight biggrin