It's like how waaaay back in Jr. High School there was a certain teen heart-throb (fill in your own blank, folks) whose posters were plastered over every available inch of bedroom wall and whose very inclusion in the cast list of any movie absolutely guaranteed that the tween whose bedroom was a shrine to said heart-throb would be first in line to see that movie, even if it stunk. That was a movie-star-crush.
A fitness-crush is like that, except totally different. The object of a fitness-crush becomes the go-to-guru for all things fitness related. This person is the one trainer who, if the crushee were to be fortunate enough to train with him, would miraculously bring about a complete 180 turn-around in said-crushee's health.
Yea.
Got one of those.
So, I'm attempting to emulate. Below is Bob doing what I call "The Bob Stretch." And then there's me, trying to do the same thing.
Hey, I'm working on it.
And, yes, certain identities have been hidden to protect the innocent.
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