Well, I do feel better, thanks for asking.
I did go to the gym after work. A spin class at the local fitness center. For those of you reading this (like, all 3 of you!), a spin class is a class where a bunch of people peddle their little hearts out on stationary bicycles for 30 minutes or 40 minutes or even a full hour. Tonight's little exercise in terror was 40 minutes.
The first spin class I did, about 4 years ago, nearly killed me. I couldn't walk for about 3 days. My legs would not support me, and I wobbled around everywhere until my legs recovered by about day 3. Then, I returned.
It has been a while since I have done a Saturday morning class, where you spin for an hour. 40 minutes seems to be about my limit now. But a couple of years ago, I could do 3 of those classes a week, and I felt much better over all. Pants that had been tight had to be cinched up all the way. Remember Erkel? I was a white Erkel.
I enjoy putting off going to the gym. I hate going. I hate being there. But I always, always enjoy having gone, if that makes any sense.
For one thing, after a spin class, and after I get home, I am ravenously hungry. An extra heaping helping of the casserole I made last evening, and I feel ready to take on the world. Or at least watch this week's episode of "Dexter".
"Dancing with the Stars" tonight! Can hardly wait.