Sometimes It Is Hard To Go To The Gym

Last night as I was pulling on the exercise clothes, for a fraction of a second, I wanted to stay home and have a big slice of roast beef, meatloaf or both along with mashed potatoes-gravy, warm biscuits with dark cinnamon flavored apple butter, sweat yams covered in melted marsh mellows, a deep brewed dark African coffee with a glass of red Merlot all followed by peach cobbler, warm, with a dollop of vanilla ice cream decorating the top.
I could almost smell the food being served in the dining room.
I imagined sitting down afterward, unwrapping a cigar and having a Sherry in a mahogany paneled room while a piano plays in another room, “Improv Jazz”, not too loud instead mellow and soothing.
Is this “heaven”?
It felt more like “sin”, forbidden but alluring.
Then the still damp, cold, constricting Under Armor snapped me out of the reverie and back to the reality of the routine, exercise, a protein shake, cold beets, a few blueberries and Green Tea.
Occasionally a veggie burger or hard boiled egg replaces the beets.
Tuna from a can or bag is a real treat when mixed with hot and chunky salsa
It is all about choices, calories, intake.
I guess I miss the bread more than anything but that is one major step on the road to perdition.
The Cigar, just a prop from days gone by.
At least the Jazz doesn’t have any excess calories.
I collect my gear.
I will soon be riding in spin class, boxing in Boot Camp or lifting in the weight room.
I watch as I head down the steps careful not to slip on any of those “mashed potatoes” or “candied yams” but I do wonder if those rolls were whole-grain.