When we went out on Thursday night my friend and I were discussing our lack of exercise and he said, "It seems like sitting is the new smoking." Meaning that studies now suggest that a sedentary life chips away at our longevity in the way we were previously led to believe required some kind of active participation in poisoning ourselves. Dammit. I am far too much of a procrastinator to part with any years that might be coming my way. Who knows what I might accomplish (finally) in my nineties. But as much as I would like to say that my primary motivation is that of health and happiness, really it's that there was that whole potato sack incident and generally I'm oozing unappealingly over the top of my jeans whereas I would prefer to be sveltely inserted into them. To achieve that, however, I'm going to have to swim a whole lot more aggressively than I did today.
Did you catch that? That last little bit?
I did it. I went to the gym this morning and A) it didn't precipitate the End Times; B) the card reading machine didn't burst into flames when they scanned mine though I have been there only twice in the past year and a half; C) I didn't drown; D) even though my hands still smell like chlorine it hasn't actually been making me sneeze. (Have you ever been allergic to your own hands? It's very vexing.)
I mean, it wasn't great. I was plodding. I had to be in the lane with the old ladies who are jogging up and down the lane wielding pool weights. I stopped two lengths shy of the self-approved number, but I did it. Now I only have to do it for the rest of my life. Tra la la. Also, it would be helpful if I developed a sudden deep love of salad. For now, yes. I would love a slice of that cake, but it would help me out if you didn't offer me any. Thanks.
The aforementioned Thursday night outing was to hear the lovely, young Gabrielle Walter-Clay sing her heart out. Damn. That girl is good. She is also just 19 years old. I wonder what it would have been like to have that much self-confidence at 19. I still don't have that much self-confidence. It looks like fun, though. You should try it.
Keep an eye on that girl. She's going places.
(Places way more interesting than the gym.)