Every Saturday morning the three of us here at Classic Case of Madness drag ourselves out of our respective beds, yank on varying layers of compression gear, lace up the shoes, and hit the pavement. Our run is followed by something newly deemed “abstavaganza” by Christine.
It’s just enough for you to know that there are weights, unladylike sounds, sweat, and a fair amount of complaining that goes into the exercise.
I used to think it was all pretty horrible, but then I realized it could be worse, we could have the government critiquing our every push-up through the telescreen.
Physical Jerks? Yes. Physical Jerks in front of jerks? No. Because, at least so far, my CCOM comrades haven’t started quasi-quoting the best lines from Book One Chapter III.
Put a bit of life into it!
6079 Roberts C! Yes, you! . . . You’re not trying.
Watch me again. I’m forty-oneish and I’ve had three children. Now look. You see my knees aren’t bent.
You can all do it if you want to.
Anyone under forty-five is perfectly capable of touching his toes.
We don’t all have the privilege of fighting in the front line, but at least we can all keep fit.
And if they do begin to utter such encouragements, I’ll see to it that they star in their own personal fitness DVD and you, too, can reap the benefits. Jillian Michaels, watch out.