gym in the rough...

Not only did I go to the gym with nervous pearlescent beads of sweat on my brow (the pearlescence comes from my high fat content)...I actually exercised. Friday I did the stationary bike for a few minutes and walked out like a proud high plains cowboy. It made me feel so good I went back on Saturday and stepped upon the dreaded eliptical trainer.

Stepping onto an impressive new piece of equipment holds such potential for embarrassment --and it was with a great deal of trepidation that I stepped onto this one. I started moving and thought "uh oh, I'm not going to make it for very long on this contraption..." But the very thought of stepping back off within five minutes was tempered with the frightful vision of the entire gym bursting into hysterical laughter so raucous that they'd all have to grab their crotches to keep from peeing in their pants.

So I stayed on the evil thing. And my butt ached. And I started um, breathing hard. I think my heart even pumped a little. And I stayed on for 20 minutes--quite respectable for slob of my stature. I worked hard for 15 minutes and tried not to pass out at a slower pace for 5 more minutes. Pathetic, I know, but I was terribly proud of myself. I had "worked out." I dejunked my trunk and maybe even some big veins down around my creaky knees.

We celebrated by going to the pool, getting sunburned and rearranging the living room. Life is good.