oh, about that workout

I went to the gym in the hopes of a massage, but it turns out the massage therapist doesn't arrive until 4:00. Desmond at the front desk cheerfully asked "two towels?" while I was deciding whether to exercise, so I took them, went downstairs, and changed.

I started with the stretching--really felt it in my thighs, which had screamed on Saturday, still recovering from Thursday's stairs. And once I'd done that, I lifted some weights, more or less my usual routine, though a bit lighter on the lower-body stuff.

I feel good. Betty called in sick today, her legs still aching. This exercise stuff is useful.

oh, about that workout

I went to the gym in the hopes of a massage, but it turns out the massage therapist doesn't arrive until 4:00. Desmond at the front desk cheerfully asked "two towels?" while I was deciding whether to exercise, so I took them, went downstairs, and changed.

I started with the stretching--really felt it in my thighs, which had screamed on Saturday, still recovering from Thursday's stairs. And once I'd done that, I lifted some weights, more or less my usual routine, though a bit lighter on the lower-body stuff.

I feel good. Betty called in sick today, her legs still aching. This exercise stuff is useful.

(no subject)

After working out today, I decided to walk down Eighth Avenue, stop at Subway, and get some lunch. That route goes past the firehouse.

That company, the Pride of Midtown (Engine 54 and Ladder 4), lost 15 men last week. The entrance is piled high with flowers, cards, candles, a huge pack of lifesavers, and other memorial offerings. I stood in line to sign the condolence book, tears in my eyes as I waited. The person who signed just before me had added "Glasgow, Scotland" after her name.

Somehow, 15 deaths is easier to comprehend than 300. 15 specific firefighters, with color photos and names on the wall, working out of a firehouse I walk past regularly.

(no subject)

After working out today, I decided to walk down Eighth Avenue, stop at Subway, and get some lunch. That route goes past the firehouse.

That company, the Pride of Midtown (Engine 54 and Ladder 4), lost 15 men last week. The entrance is piled high with flowers, cards, candles, a huge pack of lifesavers, and other memorial offerings. I stood in line to sign the condolence book, tears in my eyes as I waited. The person who signed just before me had added "Glasgow, Scotland" after her name.

Somehow, 15 deaths is easier to comprehend than 300. 15 specific firefighters, with color photos and names on the wall, working out of a firehouse I walk past regularly.