Awww…. My first post. I guess this is a get your feet wet blog for a lazy writer experiencing mid-life crisis. After getting laid off a year and a half ago, I went from my usual chronic ten pounds over weight to almost forty. I have been in food service for many years starting as a hostess at sixteen. Between working on my feet and good genetics I have skated by smoking cigarettes, eating cheeseburgers and drinking wine whenever I wanted to for years. Cheeseburger is actually my mantra. Try it during meditation its awesome. Now that I am back in school, sitting in front of a computer for six hours a day, and forty “something” I have found that my body is telling me (loudly) that my days of wine and cheeseburgers are at a sad end. Sigh…. My favorite bouquet in the world is an old diner where you can smell onions, french fries and coffee from the counter and cigarette smoke wafting in from the dark paneled lounge in the back. But I am nothing if not vain so I have begun weening myself from my drugs of choice and walking every day. Near my home, otherwise known as “The Dorm” there is a little wooded valley with trails that loop down through the trees past a fetid creek and up the other side. It’s really small. You can walk the whole thing in about a half an hour. I sadly am wheezing and sweating by the end of that half an hour. I actually drive myself there and its about a ten minute walk from my house. The wood was unusually populated this morning . I encountered several dog walkers, joggers and one young hot ripped personal trainer who ran in circles around me while I huffed and puffed my sorry ass up the other side of the valley. The guy was hot. Even at my best I’ve never been in that kind of shape and I have certainly never let anyone that ripped see me naked. That is just WAY too much competition. He breezed by me to the top of the hill and then headed back down.
“I’m impressed. I can hardly walk. ” I said, because I am lame like that and talk to strangers.
“I am a personal trainer. I work out every day” This was just as lame but I started it so what the hell was he supposed to say? Then he offered me some trainerly encouragement which I lapped up like a needy puppy. As I chugged on up the hill I tried to picture myself in size 7 jeans and new boots. It feels like a million miles away.
This is the place for the picture of what I actually look like. Sadly there is not one. Anyone photographing me right now does so at their own risk. Safety not guaranteed as they say. Call me chicken, but if I had spent any time fussing about a photo I would never have posted this today. I would have turned it into some mountainous project, worried and procrastinated until I had scrapped the idea all together. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. Now if I can just avoid cheeseburgers for the rest of the day I’m set