Connective Cube

My arms, my arms!

Marcy exclaims as her trainer screams like a pitbull underwater in the distance.  Stopping won’t shut her up.  She doesn’t know that it is much easier to drink sweet tea on the porch.  There is a ball on my head, and all Marcy can do  is try to bend her arms slightly so the lactic acid won’t melt her muscles.  Why does lactic acid not burn muscles, nor any of the acids that flow through the body everyday?

Whenever Marcy sat in Biology class in high school, she imagined that aerobic exercise would create a bubble hot milk that would melt the fat.  But where would the liquid sieve?  In pee?  Or would it be like peanut butter streaked through chocolate ice cream?

That thought gets Marcy through three more pushes, and she has 20 to go.  The extra 15 pounds on each of her arms feel like they will collapse to the ground every time.  She wants to throw the weight in the air and collapse on the prickly green grass.  10 more to go.  Does she have to?  Again?