This is an open letter to That Guy in the gym last night. You know who you are. You wanted to stand out in the crowd of us mere mortals who were simply trying to get a workout in. This was your stage. And we, your unwilling audience. I want you to know: Yes, we noticed you.

You first grabbed our attention when you began shadow boxing in the mirror. Between sets that included overly dramatic grunting on each rep. Right before you started posing and smiling at yourself approvingly.

Let me assure you of two things: 1 - We know you are a bad ass. I mean, we saw your tribal arm band tattoo and black skull bandana, right? No need to throw random punches and kicks in the air. We weren't planning on messing with a man of your obvious prowess. Or getting near your "stuff".

And, 2 - Yes, we were incredibly impressed with how much weight (iron? tonnage? scrap metal?) you were using (pushing? pumping? throwing around?) during your arm workout. Or, as I'm sure you like to call it, "Feeding the Pythons". We could tell how heavy it was from the loud floor-shaking thud it made when you dropped it repeatedly from waist height.

Rest assured, none of us in there could stop staring at you all night. Guys were dully impressed. Women were swooning. You were the center of attention. So there is no need to repeat this show. Just come in. Make sure you are wearing a cut-off t-shirt so we can see that arm band of yours. Nod. And we'll be impressed. I promise.