There are people out there who, through a combination of lifestyle and good genes, will always be fit.

I hate their guts.

Yeah, so just a few months of slackitude and I'm already bearing a startling resemblance to the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man, only not as muscular.

THIS REALLY TICKS ME OFF.

I worked very hard for a year to pound this body into fitness. I worked very hard this summer with a shovel and wheelbarrow. I quit for a few months and does my body just kind of keep purring along like a well-oiled machine?

WELL, DOES IT?

Only in my dreams. You know, the same dreams where Harrison Ford finally realizes that all his life He's Been Looking For Me.

Those dreams.

Reality is a cruel, cruel place.

Friday I drove down to my former gym and signed up for another year of pain, humiliation and torture which will begin Monday. I am dreading this because I know that at the end of my first 90 minutes I will be tired, sore, and discouraged at how much ground I have lost.

This would be the part where my three loyal readers and I cue up that old Boomtown Rats song, "I Don't Like Mondays" all join hands and hum it together.

There. That was Our Kumbaya Moment. They can never take it away from us, unlike oh, say, fitness which will disappear about ten minutes after you stop exercising.

This really ticks me off.

--Marn

P.S.--If any of my three loyal readers has a Trading Card feel free to let me know and I'll add you to my collection.

P.P.S.--Shister, a friend's son has launched a Hallowe'en campaign. Please drop by and sign his guestbook.