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December 14, 2008

Whip my butt into shape?

December 14. Day 167.

The answer was a no brainer. I was sure Mr. A would say yes. But asking? That took a little courage...

"Can you help me get back in shape?"

Since I've gotten to San Diego, I've gotten lazy. My joints crack randomly. My back is stiff. And my jean miniskirt -- a far more faithful indicator than any scale -- has gone from tight, yo to... tight.

Almost every other city I've lived in or passed through, walking everywhere just made sense. I had time, and it was a pleasure. Seattle, which is very spread out, and Boston in the wintertime are the big exceptions. In Boston, I routinely drove five blocks, into the traffic infested Harvard Square, and happily circled for 20 minutes to find parking -- just to avoid walking in the snow. What can I say... California girl to the core. Besides that, my feet plus a metro pass were the way to go. (Here I've posted a picture of Salamanca, which I visited for a single day when I was 11 and still remember vividly. It was the happiest summer of my childhood, and that was one of the highlights. See! Happy people walking!)

In San Diege, walking is considered reactionary, a critique of the American Dream. People might stop to get a better look at the subversive, or speculate charitably that her car broke down. That's just fine, but my destinations are so far apart I'd need to bring a sleeping bag just to make it from my mom's house to downtown. And, save for a few fun streets here and there, the urban texture here is hardly enticing. Thank you, Eisenhower.

One more thing. I haaaate going to the gym. I find them to be gross and depressing. I did set foot inside one once, in 2005, in a moment of self-doubt. Turned around as soon as I saw all those endorphined beauties heaving at the elliptical machines or flipping through magazines and (am I making this up or was it really thus? I can't tell) law text books while they cycled. On TV screens above, CNN and Seinfeld, to make it more bearable.

Bottom line, I like it when exercise is a natural part of my day, not ritualized and compartmentalized. That leaves several options. Tennis, biking and hiking, when it's not cold out. Dancing, anytime. Maybe I can try Pilates. Fortunately, as I've explained before, Mr. A is in great shape and an ideal workout partner. Patient, and pushy in the right way. He agreed, of course.

Gained: A pact to get active.
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