Back from vacation, a few pounds heavier for the travel, but ready to get back to work...sort of. I managed to revisit a previous midlife crisis today and went out and bought a pair of Rollerblades. I'm about 6'4" wearing them and because I am so old and decrepit, I wear all the protective gear, including a brain bucket. The whole family had to come out and watch me try to make it down the street, various appellations such as "loser" and "dork" being bandied about as I trundled off.
It's much harder than I remember. Within one hundred yards my shins were burning, my stomach and back muscles twitching, exerting herculean efforts to keep me upright. I managed to make it around the block, my forehead slick with sweat, heaving to breathe. I couldn't get those skates off fast enough.
Cooked dinner, grilled salmon, couscous and brocolli, drank a beer and took another trip around the block, this time on the street instead of the sidewalk. Much mo betta! We'll see how long this lasts.
Late.
Spike
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