The Tuesday before Thanksgiving as I left work and contemplated the drudgery of of 45 minutes at the gym, I said to myself, "Screw it, I'll just go back Monday."
Nearly five months later, after a surfeit of indefensible sloth, unrestrained indulgence in food and drink, and a concomitant mysterious shrinkage of every pair pants in my closet, I have rededicated myself--yet again--to a regular exercise routine.
I'm not at all happy with the physical state I find myself in, but I'm choosing not to dwell. Instead I've decided to return to the Couch-to-5K Running Plan that I did a few years ago with quite good success.
Today was Day 3 of Week 1. If you followed the link above, you'll see that I'm not doing much running yet. That's good, because I'm in crappy shape.
Today's workout was greatly improved by the presence of the strapping young man on the treadmill just in front of me. Watching his well muscled legs powering along, I quickly slipped into my little fantasy world, in which overtaking the hunk means I can possess him. (In the Judy Tenuta usage of the word.)
A minute or two after he started jogging, the most wonderful cologne wafted back towards me. I have no idea what scent he was wearing, but it was intoxicating without being overwhelming. (I have a very fine nose, not quite in the league of Jean-Baptiste Grenouille, but pretty damn good.) Ah, entrancing. Once I even forgot to switch back to my walking pace for my 90 seconds of walking.
I firmly believe if that young man were in front of me, I could run a marathon. Or at least happily croak while trying.