Somewhere in the basement, there’s a box, and somewhere in the box is a videotape, and somewhere on that videotape is footage of me in a tank top back in the summer of 1993, just a few months before Wonder Woman and I first met. And several years ago, when viewing that videotape, and seeing me in that tank top, Wonder Woman said, “Oh my gosh, that’s what you looked like when I met you!” And then she kind of tried to downplay her reaction a little, but basically what she was saying was that I used to spend a lot of time in the gym.
Since the whole parenthood thing happened, I’ve been pretty hit-or-miss with the gym, except for the “hit” part, because mostly? Miss.
But then I went off my meds and turned 40 and started having a midlife crisis, and thank god my mother-in-law gave to us for Christmas a family membership to the nearby, state-of-the art YMCA, because working out like a lunatic is one of the few things that seems to somewhat balance me out … which means that it is so time for me to put the “hit” back in “hit-or-miss.”