I decided I am going to try to work out more consistently to keep up with these college kids out here so I can still pretend that I am one. I actually went rock climbing for the first time ever. I lasted 8 minutes and I couldn’t even grab a pencil. Then I went running for the first time since I started fucking up my body back in January. I can’t even tell you how many body parts hurt (Ed note: it’s at least 5). I was kind of interested to see which one would hurt first. Like I felt like I should be placing bets. Would it be the old Achilles? The new Achilles? The groin? The shoulder (who knows with me running)? Well, it turns out I am just out of shape. I feel like I’ve gained a little weight since I’ve been sitting on my ass since January. And my first thought while I was running was “Damn! I have to lose some weight before I go running again.” Maybe it sounds stupid, but I’m not kidding. And my forearms are still killing me. I can’t even type. I’m dictating all this to my secretary (administrative assistant, thank you).
I got to talking with an old pal Fred Frey about maybe going backpacking at Zion National park for 3 days in late July and we argued about whether or not I was in shape enough to do this. He insists I’m in better shape than most of the other guys going. I’m trying to tell him that I haven’t even walked up a hill in like 2 years. So I may just catch up with them when they go to Vegas afterwards. It reminded me of the day that Tony and I woke up early, hiked down and back up the Grand Canyon, and drove 5 hours to Vegas just for the night. We were both sore as shit and in lots of pain after that hike…
“I’ll probably be the only person in Vegas tonight going to a massage parlor for a legitimate reason.”
Well, that depends on your definition of legitimate.
Born to be sore,
Still Standing Right Here…