The other day after working out on the elliptical I decided to do a little stretching. While minding my own business a girl walked in and started to stretch next to me. After a few minutes of me attempting to stretch a butt muscle that has been pulled since February, I heard her say, "You have got to be kidding me." I thought she was talking to me about my unshaven legs (don't you love when the hair begins to get soft) and said, "Excuse me?" She then whipped around, and in the heaviest Boston accent, proceeded to tell me how much her body is falling apart. I just sat there dumbfounded as she told me about how her knee gets swollen after a few miles of running, how her back gets cramped (which I didn't even know was possible) and how her groin muscles don't seem to be connected anymore. (I know, I wanted to ask also, "connected to what?") I then, and I'm not sure why, asked her what was the cause of all these injuries. She looked young, she was in great shape and I just saw her on the treadmill plowing away. She then said, that in college she played field hockey and since then she's been an exercise freak. I asked her how she did it with all the pain and she then told me what I already knew: Once a jock always a jock. For the next fifteen minutes we traded stories of how much our bodies hurt, but how we insist on hiking, biking and working out. Eventually, she ran off the lift and I sat there on the floor thinking about where my body is going to be in ten years. Will my back be cramping and my groin muscles become unattached? Will my butt ever stop hurting? Will my knees ever feel normal? Man, I hate getting old. Just take me to a beautiful field, preferably in Chadds Ford, Pa, and shoot me when they inform me they will be replacing my hips and knees.
I know random entry...it's 6:30 on a Saturday night and I'm trying to recover from a ten hour shift at the restaurant and a 40 mile ride today.