Okay, mea culpa. The title is deceiving here. Don’t get your panties in a sling. Some of you might want to know if I ever heard from “the Tyrone”. See former blog post if you don’t know to what I am referring. I think I will have to add him as a category here because… No my blog friends – Tyrone and I have not broken up. I haven’t told you but I’ve been “seeing” him on the side. For a few weeks. And I want to tell you right here and now – it still sucks. Or more accurately, I still suck.

Today I brought one of my dearest and nearest with me for the workout (or can we just cut to the chase and call it “the torture”?) who also happens to be buns of steel and not any kind of whiney gf. I was quite relieved to hear her curse him out and see her head spin around like the possessed girl in the movie the “Exorcist” with venom, at his request to do one more minute of those burpees.

So, number one: I was not and am not exaggerating about this workout and number two: I am not in as bad a shape as I thought.

I also want to report that I have finally succeeded in getting Darth Vader to smile a bit. He has cracked up even at a few things I have said. Thank God. But it doesn’t mean he shows any mercy. I asked Tyrone today if there were any white guy he was aware of who were named Tyrone and he said – “Well, no, but my mom did name me after Tyrone Power.”

What I want to tell you about the Ty Ty is – he is in his on way quite charming when he wants to be. That first week must have been his poker face to weed out the wimps and maybe I passed the initial test so now he can smile here and there. He even brought a boom box to the park so I can insert my own music to inspire me. (He said he prefers to workout in silence. Go figure)

Today after doing those shit-ass high knee running -in -place things, I was sweating profusely and accidentally poured some sweat on his nice dry sweater. I said – “Oh Tyrone, sorry about that. I got some sweat on you.”

He looked at me and said, “I train cage fighters. I’ve had blood, vomit and shit fly over me…”

“Really? Shit?”

“Oh yeah, fighters who get knocked out, lose their bowels… after all that, man, …. your sweat is like sugar.”

And there is was – only a black man would say something so sexy as that “YOUR SWEAT IS LIKE SUGAR.”

That sentence deserves its own blog post.

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