F ing Hate That MFer...

 So after a week away from the gym on account of catching the plague, this week  I resumed my twice weekly meetings with Juan. He's a great guy -- former Triple A MLB player -- and mutual friend to many of D2's childhood friends. But I hate working out -- so whenever I see him, I think of Leon from "Curb."

Sure enough, on Tuesday, I got winded fast, even though I was only away for a week. The plague is no longer infectious in me, but I still sound nasal, and am still coughing a bit -- kind of like getting over a bad cold or flu -- it takes awhile.

Today, Juan said it was time for my high tech evaluation -- some scanning machine where you stand on it, it rotates 360, and comes up with a life-like avatar complete with all of your fat and posture and other imbalances. 

Being a viejo verde, I asked Juan if he would show me some of the scanned avatars of the fitter, young women who go to my gym. He would not. Fine -- I'll stick with my own. Juan says it's an invaluable tool in showing proper exercises for his clients -- which joints bear most of the job of keeping my excess weight upright, for instance.

Juan did show me HIS avatar, and how he favored his back right heel. This, he explained, is from his long career in baseball -- a right handed batter is often putting weight on his right heel. I asked him, then, if my left arm, which I use for hoisting my fork and cocktail glasses, is much stronger. Turns out it is.

So I'll keep up with this exercise thing. Almost every day I try to get in at least 7000 steps -- D1 sent me an article that claims that is the sweet spot for inflammatory disease protection. It sure doesn't hurt to walk more, but getting to 7000 seems to be a reasonable daily goal. This am, I'm just waiting for pre sunrise to begin my constitutional.

Tonight there's another Zoom set of get togethers -- Eric and Dana's at 6, and then mine at 7. D2 and Jonathan are gone, and so I prepare my Publix meatloaf without judgment.

Saturday they're bring back the enormous puppy -- they have a late wedding, for Jonathan's older half brother, and don't want to leave Betsy alone. On Sunday, we'll drive her back to the Beach -- on our way to Lauderdale for dinner with friends.

Hopefully Little Man and his parents can join us there, too. If not, we need to see him early in the week -- Wifey and I get withdrawal symptoms if more than a week goes by without being with his adorableness.  

I certainly understand when people have grandkids who live in other states. I see why it leads to a lot of airline expense.

So I'll continue my love/hate with Juan. I have to be able to chase my grandson.