Here's Davis and I preparing for our maiden voyage in the bike trailer that Kelly put together this past weekend. After a couple test runs, I was ready for the big trip to a local park. As I was making the trek and feeling every single muscle group in my lower extremeties, I had a fleeting thought about exercise. See, the way I see it, being in shape is a lot like owning an SUV in my part of North Carolina--sure, it comes in handy a couple times a year, but otherwise it's just a big waste of time and money.
The exercise gods (or should I call them demons?) heard my smart little remark and made me pay: on the way home the gears on my long-neglected bike locked up and I had to walk me, my bike, my kid and the trailer home for about half a mile. Just as I was getting home, one of my tires completely popped and blew out.
I really don't hate exercise, I just have a hard time getting motivated to run for the sake of running. I'll chase after a ball or a frisbee or something, but I'm not internally motivated enough to just run. I figure if I could rig up a harness on my back with a fishing pole over my head and a twinkie dangling out about five feet in front of me, I could set land speed records.
1 comment:
Perhaps you shouldn't anger the exercise gods. They seem very vengeful. I hear you though about the exercise. But at least you got to walk with your son. It rememinded me of the story about you and your dad.
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