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Exercise

I see people jogging, working out at Curves, riding bikes, all with an intensity I usually reserve for sex.  Ok, that I used to reserve for sex back when I had any. As I enter the last stages of middle age, I feel I can now admit that I don’t like exercise, I have never liked exercise and I will probably die not liking to exercise. I simply don’t get what everyone seems so excited about…you know the people I’m talking about…they finish a ten mile jog and are pumped and jumping up and down on endorphins or heroin or whatever the hell is making them happy. They go to gyms and grunt and groan and try to work the machines faster and harder than anyone else. Me, I go because my doctor says I’ll die if I don’t. That’s a fairly good incentive. But I go resenting the time I have to spend there, I do what is expected and I leave. No endorphin high. No racing pulse that makes me want to go our and pull a truck with my teeth. Just a desire to get home and get back to what really matters….my books and magazines, my movies and TV shows, my kitchen and my animals.  I hate sweating. I don’t like being out of breath and panting. And honestly, when I feel the burn I don’t feel inspired to work harder. I feel an overwhelming urge to make popcorn and climb into bed.

Am I just from a different planet or are there others out there like me?