If you're ever in Piedmont park at 7am, you might spot me walking it out. Last week I got punked into starting an exercise regimen at 6:30-6:45 AM in the park. We do an hour then take it in and go to work.
By punked I mean we middle aged out of shape guys are in the office all the time talking about diets, how we're about to get started next week (always next week), how we're about to start eating better, regain that form we sported in high school or college and fuck like a rockstar again..only this time knowing we'll what we're doing. And she'll love it.
So after two weeks of suggesting a quick break in the middle of the work day, so I could get away from my phone, my buddy asks me how many times I've gone out and took the break. My number was a little low. To prove I was serious I agreed to do this thing at Piedmont. I ain't been up this early regularly since never.
I was surprised to find the park so crowded in the AM. We usually enter over by the Park Tavern, swing wide by the lake then around the track, do three brisk laps (we're supposed to be adding stairs tomorrow) then roll straight down to 10th and back to the corner. Walking now, not running, jeez. In our stroll we're greeted by the Boot Camp folks who are out doing calestenics when we get there (what time do they arrive?) and many the morning jogger.
I get tired watching the Boot Camp folks as they run by.
Me and Tom talk about whatever, and I think we're the only friendly people in the park. I don't really see anybody else talk to anybody else. Okay, the homeless guy was talking to himself, but I'm not sure that counts.
My goal is a six pack. Okay maybe a twelve pack-ish. All I know is that I'm down from a keg, and working my way from party ball down to case. I just want to feel comfortable taking off my damn shirt. As soon as my legs and back stop hurting. And my feet. And my sides. And my butt.
Bartender...Bacardi and diet Sprite.