I often wonder, as I walk past a group of middle-aged women bending and straining and sweating in an outdoor fitness class in the park, if they realize that others can see actually see them. It's as if the loud guy running the group gave them all Gatorade mixed with Sprite (otherwise known as "Gatorite") and told them it would make them invisible to the public eye, so it's "totally cool" to wear spandex and get yelled at in a school field for a nominal fee, just in case you might lose a few pounds along the way.
I hate to break it to you, ladies, but you can never, ever trust a screaming guy in camo pants.
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