Thursday, January 29, 2009

My wife and I have switched places.

When the guys at the office wanna stop at the local Hollywood grease vendor, I politely decline. Like always, I've brought my healthy high fiber lunch to work. Besides, as delicious as Molly's Hamburgers could be, the problem is I couldn't possibly calculate the Weight Watcher Points value. I tell my wife, sure, we can check out that new tapas place on Main Street... lemme just make sure I save up enough points. And the only way I'll manage to make it to my friend's Superbowl bash this weekend is by bringing healthy snacks I make from the Healthy Girl cookbook.

Adelphia, meanwhile is exercising every day. Not once in a while, mind you. Not even taking a day or two off like me. Every day. When it's not her special shake your booty yoga Pontius Pilates class, it's a serious power walk. These started off as a short constitutional around the neighborhood, but they keep getting longer and longer and even are including running to the routine. I sometimes see her when I'm out for my weekend 10-milers on the beach... and have to keep running to keep up with her power stride. I'm very proud of her, so I don't mind when she informs me of things I've been trying to tell her for the past 2 years -- about how this shit's better than Xanax or Vicodin, about which podcasts make the miles go by, or the interesting houses you pass in Venice, like the one with the Buddha statue or the optical illusion wall... But she's so fanatical we have to work our vacation plans around her new addiction. I have to remind her that Himalayan hiking trails don't usually have a pool nearby where they serve you fruity drinks with an umbrella.

We're both getting in good shape. But today's only Thursday and I feel like it's Freaky Friday.


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