I went for a run today in Dresden, Germany along its stunning main river. Since I haven’t yet splurged and followed Chris Sacca’s or Rob Urstein’s advice, I was left to a simple run with an iPod and then the obligatory 40 pushups 3/4 of the way into the run.
For the push-ups I stopped along the side of the path, walked onto this platform type of thing, and dropped down and pounded out the bad-boys. One woman gave me a funny look, and briskly walked away from the platform where she was standing (even though it could easily hold several people). What? Can a man not give his chest a little attention it so badly deserves?
To answer this question, I must consult my trusted advisor and life guard Andy McKenzie. Andy, should I cower in embarrassment when doing push-ups in a semi-public setting? Or should I embrace a passion for the pectoral muscle group with the same gusto I pursue ping-pong, eating cottage cheese, and devouring pesto pizza?