But I Can't

Hypothetically, a complimentary physical fitness assessment thrown in in addition to one's complimentary workout training session should be both motivating and inspiring.

Then again, hypothetically, one should also be able to pull off more than ten little weakling push-ups.

Also, upon closer inspection, my gym appears to carry the sorry burden of catering to neither the young urban muscled horndog set nor the fifty- and sixty year old retiree set, but instead to a peculiar hybrid of the two, resulting in much leering and staring towards innocent and awkward young specimens like myself by an unsavory group of muscularly flaccid horndog retirees. One of whom looks like David Koresh, and whom I caught peeking at me in my shower from behind his own shower wall. But if creepy is the price of beauty, count me in. For now.