Dichroic Reflections

weights in marn-view

So I went to the House of Torture this morning, otherwise known as my gym and now my shoulder hurts. Which is odd, because I was doing squat and stuff today to work on my legs, eh. Still, I was feeling pretty good, realizing that I’m now squatting three-quarters my weight, up from the half I started with.

There I was, feeling like a stud muffaletta, when I made my Fatal Mistake. I looked in the mirror. I was only intending to check my form, but of course the first thing I saw was the unspeakable gut bulge, not large but unmistakably there. And I think it was taunting me, letting me know a year of rowing and a few months in the gym weren’t going to pry loose a lifelong companion. I think if my belly button could stick out a tongue, it would have.