It was a another seemingly normal day...
...At the gym. Little did Geoff O'Donnell know that his whole life would be changed in an instant.
When Geoff awoke this morning, he felt good. He popped out of bed, turned off the alarm, and woke up his ruggedley handsome younger brother, Alan. Geoff was really feeling it today.
"Man, I can't wait to lift, I am energized, ready to rock." Geoff stated. Yee-haw.
"Hmph" Alan mumbled. Alan had had a long night, he spent about an hour and a half on the phone the night earlier and had only got about 5 hours of sleep. He fumbled down the stairs after throwing on some workout clothes walking behind Geoff. Alan grabbed a cup and drank a little H2O. Geoff was awfully chipper this morning, which annoyed Alan, because he was a little crabby. All that crabbiness would evaporate in but an hour and a half.
The pair walked outside to a wonderfully crisp summer day. They had enjoyed the cool mornings and the hot afternoons. The wind wisped through their messy hair seemlessly while they walked down the deck stairs and climbed into Geoff's car.
"Man, it is awesome out." Geoff said.
"Sure is. It is sweet." Said Alan. And it was. It would only get sweeter for the 240 pound man.
Alan kicked back his chair while Geoff drove and gave his lumberjack beard a scratch. He dozed on and off while they made the short trek to the Viking Sportsplex. The scenery was lovely this particular morning. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, and the fields rolled on like a ball on a frictionless surface. The music was a little loud for Alan's taste, for he desired to hear the smooth sounds of the alto sax and piano in the morning. It mellowed him out, but for now he would have to deal with Geoff's less than ecelectic taste in music.
As we pulled in the parking lot, the pair noticed three cars. One belonged to Melanie, one to Ben Vanderboon, and one final to Jerri (a regular cardio lady). No Opie, not yet anyway. Alan had foolishly forgotten his gun, but he was focused, he had something on his mind. Today he had to compete. He had challenged his 190 lb brother to a foot race. Alan's mind was racing for a number of reasons.
"Ah man, my hamstrings are still sore from that leg workout yesterday. I am also 50 pounds heavier than Geoff." The odds were strongly against him. "This is crazy." He thought.
The workout went as per usual. Opie finally showed up about 45 minutes late raging pissed. He was pissed on account of his nephew erasing his saves on Ridge Racer. What a little bastard. Alan had shocked his pecs with some bench press and pec deck. He also went with a rigorous bicep and tricep routine, all the while mixing in abs. He was trying to focus on upper body to take some of the pain eminating from his legs. Boy, he was sore.
7:45 a.m. Game time.
"Dude, when are you two fatties going to race?" Asked Opie.
"Now, bitch, I am the fastest man in the world, as well as the most defined and strongest. Fuck Arnold and that Porsche. I would beat up Arnold and beat that Porsche in a race." Geoff said. He often talked about how stupendous he was. Alan had been the bigger man and just let him talk his shit.
"Yeah, I suppose now would be an appropriate time." Stated the calm and collected Alan. Alan walked over and picked up his pair of white socks and slipped them on without a hitch. He laced up his old running shoes. They sure were dirty, he thought, but they were trusty and got his through many practices in wrestling. He had run many miles in these shoes, and loved them down to sole.
He walked outside with Geoff, Jeff, and Opie. The air was breezy. Alan could almost hear the winds of change. The four debated over the next ten minutes how long and where to race. It was decided that the race would take place from the start of the cement to the right side of the gym, and would end where Opie and Jeff stood. Alan took a quick stretch. If I just believe, I can do it, he thought to himself. He had the heart of a champion. He could do this. He would do this.
Geoff and Alan walked to the end of the cement. Jeff and Opie looked like small figures in the distance where they stood at the finish line. The pair took their places at the start line. Both placed the end of their toes on the cement and placed the other leg back. Alan took the standard sprinter position with a hand on the ground. Geoff followed the same suit.
Geoff was calm too, he had this race in the bag. There is no way I am losing to my ruggedly-handsome younger brother. He weighs 50 pounds more than me. There is no mathmatical situation that would permit this to happen. Fuck it, I am going to smoke him before he knows what hit him, he thought to himself.
"Take your positions!" Opie yelled from a far. "I will put my two really fat arms down really fast when it is ok to go! On your marks, get set...GO!" He let his arms gracelessly fall to his side.
They were off. Alan thought he was doing rather well being neck and neck for the first couple of yards. Geoff was a little surprised with Alan's speed and agility off the line.
As they approached the quarter marker, all Alan could think of was victory. He could taste it. He was in the lead running as fast as he could, but he thought Geoff would soon catch up.
What the hell is going on here? I am a few feet BEHIND him? That's it, I need to dig deep. Geoff dug as deep as he could, but it was not deep enough for Alan was a freight train. Nothing could stop his heart and his desire to win. He would not take no for an answer.
Alan crossed the finish line first, with a few feet to spare. Geoff crossed the finish line and immediately demanded a re-race. Alan did not wish to participate in another race, because he knew he had already embarassed his brother, and he didn't wish to do any more harm. Alan threw his arms in the air and the crowd erupted.
"Ha ha ha!! You got beat by your younger brother! He outweighs you by like a million pounds!" Chimed Jeff and Opie simutaneously.
Alan had done it. No problem. It wasn't even a race. He had acheived his goal that had earlier seemed so far in the distance. He was number one. Geoff was number two (that's poo). The odds were against him, but he had prevailed.
-The events stated earlier are all true and occured on June, the 22nd, 2005 at approximately 7:45 a.m. All names have been kept the same for the reason simply to prove that Alan is faster than Geoff. All names of buinesses are registered trademarks of Jeff (more or likely). Names of fatasses named Opie are probably at McDonald's right now. All rights reserved.
When Geoff awoke this morning, he felt good. He popped out of bed, turned off the alarm, and woke up his ruggedley handsome younger brother, Alan. Geoff was really feeling it today.
"Man, I can't wait to lift, I am energized, ready to rock." Geoff stated. Yee-haw.
"Hmph" Alan mumbled. Alan had had a long night, he spent about an hour and a half on the phone the night earlier and had only got about 5 hours of sleep. He fumbled down the stairs after throwing on some workout clothes walking behind Geoff. Alan grabbed a cup and drank a little H2O. Geoff was awfully chipper this morning, which annoyed Alan, because he was a little crabby. All that crabbiness would evaporate in but an hour and a half.
The pair walked outside to a wonderfully crisp summer day. They had enjoyed the cool mornings and the hot afternoons. The wind wisped through their messy hair seemlessly while they walked down the deck stairs and climbed into Geoff's car.
"Man, it is awesome out." Geoff said.
"Sure is. It is sweet." Said Alan. And it was. It would only get sweeter for the 240 pound man.
Alan kicked back his chair while Geoff drove and gave his lumberjack beard a scratch. He dozed on and off while they made the short trek to the Viking Sportsplex. The scenery was lovely this particular morning. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, and the fields rolled on like a ball on a frictionless surface. The music was a little loud for Alan's taste, for he desired to hear the smooth sounds of the alto sax and piano in the morning. It mellowed him out, but for now he would have to deal with Geoff's less than ecelectic taste in music.
As we pulled in the parking lot, the pair noticed three cars. One belonged to Melanie, one to Ben Vanderboon, and one final to Jerri (a regular cardio lady). No Opie, not yet anyway. Alan had foolishly forgotten his gun, but he was focused, he had something on his mind. Today he had to compete. He had challenged his 190 lb brother to a foot race. Alan's mind was racing for a number of reasons.
"Ah man, my hamstrings are still sore from that leg workout yesterday. I am also 50 pounds heavier than Geoff." The odds were strongly against him. "This is crazy." He thought.
The workout went as per usual. Opie finally showed up about 45 minutes late raging pissed. He was pissed on account of his nephew erasing his saves on Ridge Racer. What a little bastard. Alan had shocked his pecs with some bench press and pec deck. He also went with a rigorous bicep and tricep routine, all the while mixing in abs. He was trying to focus on upper body to take some of the pain eminating from his legs. Boy, he was sore.
7:45 a.m. Game time.
"Dude, when are you two fatties going to race?" Asked Opie.
"Now, bitch, I am the fastest man in the world, as well as the most defined and strongest. Fuck Arnold and that Porsche. I would beat up Arnold and beat that Porsche in a race." Geoff said. He often talked about how stupendous he was. Alan had been the bigger man and just let him talk his shit.
"Yeah, I suppose now would be an appropriate time." Stated the calm and collected Alan. Alan walked over and picked up his pair of white socks and slipped them on without a hitch. He laced up his old running shoes. They sure were dirty, he thought, but they were trusty and got his through many practices in wrestling. He had run many miles in these shoes, and loved them down to sole.
He walked outside with Geoff, Jeff, and Opie. The air was breezy. Alan could almost hear the winds of change. The four debated over the next ten minutes how long and where to race. It was decided that the race would take place from the start of the cement to the right side of the gym, and would end where Opie and Jeff stood. Alan took a quick stretch. If I just believe, I can do it, he thought to himself. He had the heart of a champion. He could do this. He would do this.
Geoff and Alan walked to the end of the cement. Jeff and Opie looked like small figures in the distance where they stood at the finish line. The pair took their places at the start line. Both placed the end of their toes on the cement and placed the other leg back. Alan took the standard sprinter position with a hand on the ground. Geoff followed the same suit.
Geoff was calm too, he had this race in the bag. There is no way I am losing to my ruggedly-handsome younger brother. He weighs 50 pounds more than me. There is no mathmatical situation that would permit this to happen. Fuck it, I am going to smoke him before he knows what hit him, he thought to himself.
"Take your positions!" Opie yelled from a far. "I will put my two really fat arms down really fast when it is ok to go! On your marks, get set...GO!" He let his arms gracelessly fall to his side.
They were off. Alan thought he was doing rather well being neck and neck for the first couple of yards. Geoff was a little surprised with Alan's speed and agility off the line.
As they approached the quarter marker, all Alan could think of was victory. He could taste it. He was in the lead running as fast as he could, but he thought Geoff would soon catch up.
What the hell is going on here? I am a few feet BEHIND him? That's it, I need to dig deep. Geoff dug as deep as he could, but it was not deep enough for Alan was a freight train. Nothing could stop his heart and his desire to win. He would not take no for an answer.
Alan crossed the finish line first, with a few feet to spare. Geoff crossed the finish line and immediately demanded a re-race. Alan did not wish to participate in another race, because he knew he had already embarassed his brother, and he didn't wish to do any more harm. Alan threw his arms in the air and the crowd erupted.
"Ha ha ha!! You got beat by your younger brother! He outweighs you by like a million pounds!" Chimed Jeff and Opie simutaneously.
Alan had done it. No problem. It wasn't even a race. He had acheived his goal that had earlier seemed so far in the distance. He was number one. Geoff was number two (that's poo). The odds were against him, but he had prevailed.
-The events stated earlier are all true and occured on June, the 22nd, 2005 at approximately 7:45 a.m. All names have been kept the same for the reason simply to prove that Alan is faster than Geoff. All names of buinesses are registered trademarks of Jeff (more or likely). Names of fatasses named Opie are probably at McDonald's right now. All rights reserved.
posted by Alan @ 1:07 PM
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