Gym Rat

I'm a little sore today. I've gone and joined a gym after seventeen years of laying about, eating tons of food, and watching lots of television. I used to go to a gym three times a week and I looked marvelous. Now I look like a fat, old fart and it isn't pretty. I started last week but decided not to write about it right away just in case I wimped out and quit. What got me to finally start working out again was Mark. No, he didn't suggest it. Mark's doctor told him to go to this gym for some exercise to improve his breathing. I figured as long as Mark is going, I might as well join in.

I've started slowly, with light weights and short reps. Over the next couple of weeks I'm sure I will do better, but I am really out of shape. I probably should cut out some of the horrible, fattening foods I eat too. For instance, Sunday night Mark made brownies and by Monday afternoon they were all gone. Such a pig. Mark has been whining about not wanting to go to the gym, he hates it. I told him, now that I've paid up for at least one month, he is going. Besides, it's kind of fun to watch Mark exercise.