I hit the gym this evening. It was a truely eventful moment, twice in three days. Again it hurt. I'm now a fat man who can't program his weight into the running machine because he's afraid of standing on scales to see what it is. Big Moma summed it up when she refused to stand on a set. I said there was nothing wrong with them they were new and function perfectly. Her reply was this was the reason she wouldn't stand on them.
Why does getting old mean getting fat, grumpy and unfit? Not to mention the necessity to purchase more clothes as you climb through the sizes like a mountaineer on speed. Tomorrow I think I'll go for a light meal and watch the calories. Or did I mean watch the cookies?
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