After ingesting approximately 97,351 calories over the July 4th holiday, I determined it was time to go to the gym.
Umm … I hadn’t been to the gym in … uh … 4 or 5 weeks. Maybe you’ve noticed that new layer of rippled stuff on my legs?
So, My Guy and I go to a really, really small gym. We know all the attendants, and so when I show up alone, someone will ask where my “workout buddy” is. The answer is that he’s playing softball. Or disc golf. Or basketball. Or football. Or some uber-athletic sport that I’ve never even heard of.
When they ask him where his workout buddy is, he can honestly say, “Oh, she’s sitting somewhere.”
So, as we approached the gym today, I realized that someone might ask where I’ve been lo these 4 or 5 or 6 weeks. Not to be mean, but to be friendly.
The truth, that I’ve been sitting? Was just too much. So, I came up with some on-the-fly responses.
- I got a kidney transplant. – OK, not necessarily true, but a pretty solid reason not to be on a treadmill.
- I donated a kidney. – Even better! I couldn’t be on a treadmill, AND I am above reproach. Not unlike Mother Teresa.
- I was in Africa … – Which is really far from the gym.
- … working with orphans … – Because Mother Teresa would approve.
- … orphans who were blind … – And therefore couldn’t see the new layer of cellulite on my quads.
- … and I cured them of their blindness. – Because if you’re gonna go, go all out.
Sadly, no one asked where I had been. So, I was free to watch HGTV and have a coronary on the treadmill, then go home to die.