There’s nothing appealing about dragging my half-dead carcass out of bed, slipping on workout clothes, and jogging about on grassy trails. The only thing that keeps me going, that pulls me from my slumber, is the knowledge that I’ll get to see Keller’s ass in a pair of running shorts jog in front of me. Or I get to watch his large, muscular pecs bounce up and down while he pedals backward, watching me attempt to catch up to him. The jiggle is nice. The jiggle pulls me forward.
