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Naturally, one of my resolutions will be to lose weight and get in shape. as I have resolved for the last 20/30 years or so.
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So why should this year be any different? Actually there is a chance this year because of a number of divergent forces. There are Katelyn and Lisa Rowe who are always nagging me about the last time I worked out... or... asking, "Did you workout today?"
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That type of irritation is definitely a reason to be able to respond something like "Yeah, I did five miles easy." or something like that.... but that only works if you actually did the mileage.
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Then there is Lisa's bionic husband, Harvey, who will still be training for triathons when he is a hundred and four or so. Just looking at him makes me pissed off that I'm not in shape.
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Also there is our guy at FreshAyer who does a minimum of 500 pushups a day, five miles on the track, and God knows how may situps.... and he looks damn buff because of it. Course he has the time to do it, and I certainly hope that I never have that type of time. But he still is inspirational in taking the opportunity to invest his spare time in health and strength pursuits.
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So there is definitely cause for motivation. I just did 9+ miles on the Cybex, and felt pretty bad doing it.
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This will be a long haul.
- Peep – Perfection – Pressure…it’s always there… beside, behind, below, between and in the face of every scoop, scallop and scone… I admire those with the will and the way… and will face next year with optimism and determination to make it better than the one before!
- Ise tell you about pressin needs. I liberated a shrimp po' boy from the day old table at the Piggly Wiggly, myself runnin' on a three day drunk. Short time thereafter, I had ta wills my way into the facility at the Old Dixie Shoppin' Center, after I sharted an image of the dolly lama in my fruit o' the looms. After evacuatin' my guts of that rancid grist (I haves a rite mind to soo them heartless profiteers), comes to find I was in the ladies room. Some dyke mall cop look like Linda Trip chased me outta there with tissue streamin' from my trousers and a gaggle of hens slingin' whatever they could get they hands on. Come to learn the haz mat folks was called in. All on account of a day old sammich.
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Peep – Perfection – Pressure…it’s always there… beside, behind, below, between and in the face of every scoop, scallop and scone… I admire those with the will and the way… and will face next year with optimism and determination to make it better than the one before!
Ise tell you about pressin needs. I liberated a shrimp po' boy from the day old table at the Piggly Wiggly, myself runnin' on a three day drunk. Short time thereafter, I had ta wills my way into the facility at the Old Dixie Shoppin' Center, after I sharted an image of the dolly lama in my fruit o' the looms. After evacuatin' my guts of that rancid grist (I haves a rite mind to soo them heartless profiteers), comes to find I was in the ladies room. Some dyke mall cop look like Linda Trip chased me outta there with tissue streamin' from my trousers and a gaggle of hens slingin' whatever they could get they hands on. Come to learn the haz mat folks was called in. All on account of a day old sammich.
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