This morning I was looking through some photos posted by an old friend. Among the photos was one which included a woman I dated for a bit. She looks... incredible.
Meanwhile... I look like what happens when sour cream sits out too long. And then explodes.
Whatever that gene is which causes people to look better with age is the gene that I have the opposite of. Which wouldn't be so bad if I didn't feel like I'm falling apart. Except I totally do. Yesterday morning I bent over to pick up some toys that Jake dragged downstairs and almost didn't make it back upright. I think that if I hadn't taken a couple Advil, I probably wouldn't have made it through the rest of my day. At all.
A part of me thinks that I should take up yoga or pilates or something. Except that may very well be the death of me, so maybe sitting on the couch and watching TV while eating potato chips is the better move?
I'm thinking yes.
At least until I throw my back out reaching for a chip.
Which may be painful, but at least I get a potato chip out of the deal. The same can't be said for yoga or pilates.
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A body in motion, tends to stay in motion, a body at rest tends to remain at rest. Move, even if it slower, and more carefully.