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She looked peaceful; eyes closed, head tilted down, breathing
- controlled and soft. Areas of fabric, turned dark with
sweat, stuck to her body revealing the grizzly figure below
it. Cut-off army fatigues could do little to hide her massive
and striated legs. Femininity with a warrior's touch.
Exhaling sharply, she opened her eyes and mounted the machine
next to her. With pads resting on her shoulders and white-
knuckled fists grabbing at the handles, she took one deep
breath, held it, then lifted the weight from its stack. Her
face, once soft and peaceful, was now plagued with pain. She
tried to control her body, which began to quake violently
beneath the load of five hundred extra pounds. At best, she
was able to stop her knees from buckling. She began to slowly
lower the heel of her foot down beyond the level of her toes.
Resting at the bottom for no more than a split second, she
groaned loudly and exploded upwards, flexing her engorged
calves as hard as she could. Back down and up, and again and
again. With every rep came the surfacing of a new vein, a
new ripple, new growth. Then, one the last rep, she held it
at the top, biting down, trying to fight the pain. And when
she could not hold it anymore, she collapsed. The iron
collided with its cradle as she collided with the floor.
There she lay, chest heaving, desperately trying to fill her
lungs. This time however, she did not try to control her
twitching legs. This time she smiled.
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