See, now…I know, in my reptilian brain, that this is not possible. I come from some kind of Russian stock and will always be better built to pull a cart than to fence with an epee. Indeed, I’ve never been a sprinter but can walk a rather long time if necessary.
So this little bit of – mmm, what shall we call her? – salted caramel is not going to be possible for me. However, I still consider her a kind of aspiration of perspiration.
We’ve all been working out – Trooper putting on the ceramic again this morning for his run in the only 100 degree weather that the early hour brought. I am sane and chose the treadmill – perhaps 25 minutes of off and on running. Not bad considering I haven’t done a damned thing in a long time.
But I am starting to remember how it once was before I met Trooper – just before – when I’d hit the elliptical for a hard 45 minutes at the gym after doing the circuit. I am remembering the egg white omelets and yogurt smoothies. I can remember, too, how I was able to get so much done in a day.
Complacency set in and set in hard. At first, we’d work out at the same gym, but the his schedule made it harder for him and we moved which interrupted the progress and it was just so easy to forget…
But I think the real setback was the surgery. I may have – if I really consider it – not quite dealt with the consequences of it well. I was alone during the recovery and months after. I believe I just tucked it away with a shrug while my subconscious was shoveling food at the emptiness of body and spirit.
Years, now…I have to admit that I simply languished in this tide pool. Fresh waters came now and then but…I didn’t try to improve my lot. And I lost so much in that stasis. The thing is, though, that I can see the muscles lying underneath the flesh. And I suspect they’ll come back much faster than I imagine.
I was recalling back in the day when I’d get on the elliptical and suddenly there’d be a half dozen guys behind me on the circuit machines. I had no idea at the time, of course. I was focused and still had in my mind the image of myself as a waddler. I can see, now, that I had a fine ass in tight workout shorts and it was working for all of them as I strode my way on the pedals…I wish I could have appreciated it more at the time.
I was damned hot and didn’t even know it. How much does that suck? Well, no time to worry about that, now. Dogs to walk and some push-ups to kick out (just because). But I have to go heeled as usual – new neighbors and word is that one set is unsat. Very unsat.