Encounters of the other kind

The gym will be open until December 3rd. This is terrible news. I am finally fitting into THAT dress that I bought against all sane advice (that was two sizes too small) two years ago. I am due for a break from the artichoke miracle juice and Christmas eating started on October 31st…

I have always been one for accepting one’s body the way it is and being loved and desired despite the little voice in my head (small as it may be) saying: do you really need to eat two slices of pumpkin pie? Yet, fitting into that sweet blue dress makes all the difference today.

So I have two weeks to envision myself tasting but not frogging out on Christmas treats, doing yoga and ballet exercises to keep in shape post gym vacation and accepting that I prefer one more bite of cake with a wonderful friend over any dress, cute and short as it may be.

So, I’ve decided to go to the gym Tuesdays and Saturdays in addition to Monday, Wednesday and Friday… from today until December 3rd.

So, I climbed upon the elliptical machine this morning and dragged my legs till the apparatus started moving. I considered checking my heart rate, but then I realized that it’s almost stagnant because honestly I don’t want to be there, I’d rather be writing some story or better yet, in the woods writing a story, surrounded by comfy pillows and an oversized sweater, a warm croissant in one hand and a hot tea in the other. The love of my life could be sleeping in the next room, in my cottage. The morning chill is embraced by my imagination and some nymphs and characters come out to play. I gaze down at the flashy numbers on the fataway apparatus… two minutes, only 28 to go on this one. Music is boring me, nothing is getting me in the mood to loose myself in sweat and palpitations. I try gazing out the window again. I can’t get back to my cottage, I’m stuck between want and feel.

But oh… Good morning long red basketball shorts with the nice face. I overt my eyes. If he chooses the bicycle right in front of me, it’s meant to be. And he did. Ok, what’s next? He looked at me, while I glanced away. Surely we will meet up at the elevators and… What will I say? I decide on saying hey as I pull my sunglasses out and place them on my head and glance –stare shortly into his eyes.  He responds –Hey? What do you mean by hey? I mean, is this your attempt to get into my long red basket ball shorts and run your fingers through my smartly cut hair? or Do you think that this will lead to us falling in love, marriage and children? Of course, he paused, this could all be you just being polite. Then again, hey is not polite.- I curl my lips into the right side of my cheek and glance back a cold darting glance. –That all depends on what you say next, doesn’t it?

So I decide to not wait until I get to the elevator to start this banter. 29:50, 29:51, 29:52, 29:53… finish what you start, you are almost done… 29:53.5 … … …30:00! I hop off the fataway apparatus and grab my things. I really must get a second look before I make further plans. Something about his energy makes me nervous. This is not normal for me, I do not get nervous, I make you nervous, not the other way around. So I choose the bicycle in front of his. I turn and look at him… hmm no, sigh his face is not what I want. I actually feel more relaxed and am glad I didn’t wait till the elevator. Close call.


This entry was posted in Arte del Cortejo, Fruitcakes, The end of a year. Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to Encounters of the other kind

  1. Ranis Avena says:

    As always, a close call dear.

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