I went to the gym today.
And I wasn’t there to fix something or to deliver a pizza.
No, I was there because I no longer drag waterlogged ship lines across the decks of barges. I was there because I no longer throw around truck tires or fight two thousand pound draft horses. Because I spend almost no time walking miles through the woods in pursuit of game or along mountains streams looking for fish.
What I’ve been doing is watching a lot of Sesame Street and changing diapers.
This is doing nothing for my health.
So, as of this morning, I started going to the gym.
It was a shock.
I started off on the cross trainer which I’m pretty sure was invented around the same time as the rack and thumb screw. I did a mile. I fell down because my legs didn’t work when I got off it.
I then walked a mile on the track to get my legs working again. I was repeatedly lapped by old people speed-walking.
Then I did some weight training, which I thought would go alright because I’m pretty good at lifting heavy things, but it didn’t go alright. My left arm now hates me.
All of this was topped off by numerous naked men in the locker room. I’ve never seen another man nude in real life. Not while sober. I didn’t realize how much alcohol cushioned the shock before now.
And I’m planing on doing it all over again on Friday…