She glanced at us through the glass, looking at no one in particular, after which she went back to reading her Vogue magazine.

I could see from where I stood, panting, that it was the latest issue, the one with Angelina Jolie on the cover. Man! What I wouldn’t give to be reading that exact issue right now; to be doing anything for that matter that would allow me to breathe in enough air to survive. Instead I was gasping and sweating to the beat of the latest power mix tape. I could also see, somewhere between push up number 32 and 33, that she had on a crimson-ish lip gloss and a touch of rose colored blush.

It didn’t seem fair somehow that she would be enjoying her workout in such a civilized way, browsing the pages of her magazine, stepping on her stair master, without a hair out of place while, I was struggling to remember what day of the week it was…