The day after Christmas, I did the unthinkable–I went to the gym.

I’ve always been kind of anti-gym, just really feeling like it wasn’t for me and I hated it and didn’t see the need for it. And for a while, that was all true. But while Paul and I were in a good walking routine while it was warm, it’s not something we can really keep up now that we’re in the middle of winter, and if I want to lose weight, that’s not gonna cut it–especially as I’m closer to 30 than I am 20. So I decided it was time to do a little more. Paul had been going to the gym and lifting weights every so often with a friend of his, so I decided to tag along.

And so the boys put me through a weightlifting regimen, obviously with a pitiful amount of weight because, you know, I’ve never actually done this before and have no muscle to me at all. But I trusted them, and I held my own–I may have done a tiny fraction of what they did in terms of weight, but I did nearly everything they did until about the end, when I really just couldn’t anymore. But I was pleased with and proud of myself for having done it, and I was happy to find that I didn’t hate it. Maybe it’s that I’m older now and my opinions on it are different than when I was scrawny, maybe it was just the better attitude in general, I don’t know, but I actually kind of enjoyed it and was looking forward to continuing to go, most likely on weekends with Paul and Marc.

We went home, got cleaned up, headed to the South Hills to buy books at Half Price Books that I’d wanted for Christmas and hadn’t gotten, then went on our annual trip to see The Nutcracker, the only day we were able to squeeze it in. Usually, Brandon and Kelly join us, but they saw it down in Morgantown since one of Kelly’s friends (and bridesmaids) had a lead role this year. So it was just Paul and I, out on the town on our day off.

The next day brought the annual Trans-Siberian Orchestra concert, too, and I lucked out and got the day after that off–I had one floating holiday left to use by the end of the year and the schedule was full, but I took my chances and requested it anyway. I figured I’d lose the day entirely if I didn’t bother and that it didn’t hurt to try, and it paid off.

Paul’s college roommate happened to be in town from California, where he’s still in the Air Force, so we met up with him for dinner and a movie. We saw Assassin’s Creed, which did make for an entertaining movie but still felt very much like a video-game movie in that it just kind of felt underdeveloped, like the characters and plot could’ve used a little more depth.

Paul and I went out again for dinner the next night, and then I started feeling a little pain in the back of my throat. It wasn’t too bad, but I decided the smart thing to do was take a day and call off. I felt a little bad calling off in a week where I’d already had one day off for a holiday and a second day off for vacation time, but I’ve learned by now that it’s better to take a day early on and recover rather than push myself and feel worse as a result. And I figured it was the weekend of New Year’s, so I’d have a nice, long weekend to get over whatever little bug I’d come down with.

I was wrong.

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