Adventures of an Ambivalent Gym Queen, Dispatch #111208

Gym Queen's Log, Workout Date 111208: The preemptive senility nearly took me down; I forgot what exercise day today was. I sat on a locker room stool for a good ten minutes, trying to figure out what I was supposed to be dressing for: the bike and circuit machines or the pool. And the winner was: the former--and, of course, me.

I was a little worried about the weight machines after Monday's babysitting, when I realized that my adored, the 50-week-old Ruby, has grown beyond my weight limit. Per Dr. Bendo and Natalia Ruiz-Salmeron's orders, I am not allowed to pick up more than 35 pounds--which is why my weights never get over the 30-lb hump: necessity dictates and, well aware of the consequences, I follow. It works well for things like water coolers and other undesirable objects I'd rather not lift, but not so much for the cute little ones, who melt me every time--especially when they do things like fall asleep on me. And yet, I can no longer carry them to bed--and for this, life is cruel. (Though I'm fully grateful for not being paralyzed as I was once in jeopardy of becoming.)

But I took the arm, chest, and back work slowly--and with sizable breaks between reps--and slowly worked my body back into its own good graces. That plus the hour of on-and-off shvitzing for the shoulders made for a good day at the gym.

Now that I've documented ho sweat, I'm at a photographic loss--one which can be evidenced by the following piece of evidence:

Foot of an athlete with athlete's foot

And so another day closes with the promises of gym attendance fulfilled. "A round of ginkgo biloba for everyone!"