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ROTTEN DAY

Rational people become the least bit tired of my cheery optimism and wish I’d turn it down. Or off. This one’s for them.

The night before last I had a terrific bibulous evening. For which I paid the normal price yesterday morning. I slept about four hours and woke up early, feeling stupid. The last thing I wanted – the very last thing – was to get out of bed and go to the wretched, wretched gym. But of course I did becuase I am in the business these days and, of course, i am a bit of a nut case.

It was nasty. A spin class with a small crowd. The leader was a lifeless loser who could barely keep herself going, let alone motivate the rest of us. So I dogged it. There are days, my friends…there are days when you get 100% credit just for putting on your little costume and going to the gym…never mind working hard. I lolled along in the 60-65% range most of the time…some spurts to 70-75% of my max. I was grumpy and did not enjoy it a hell of a lot. But here, of course, is the thing: by the end of spin class – despite my firm resolve to be crabby – I was starting to feel pretty good. So much better in fact that I went down to the nasty weight room and did some leg weights. Because I’m going skiing in a couple of weeks and will need ’em. I headed home (at 7:45 in the gray morning) feeling about 200% better. Not like a human being, you know, but 200% better. There you go.

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Chris Crowley

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