In the buff

Life is a series of moments. They come at us, most are meaningless and sometimes, rarely, we get some sort of weird surprise.

So I am sitting in this room, everyone wearing suits and nice haircuts, not sure if people wear haircuts, or they just sort of deal with what they have. There we all were, there was a break from listening to a man stumble with words. This young attractive woman begins talking to a young attractive man and I pretend to be super busy with some papers, but they are talking about training for a marathon and a century, 100 miles on a bike. I have done a few centuries, no marathons, but anyone who reads this blog knows a couple of things, one is I believe people should be honest in relationships and two, I am training for something.

So I pay a bit more attention. The woman talks about her trainer and what better shape he is in that she is, the guy understands, but trainers work out all the time, you can not compete with them, mindless yuppie whining. Then, he looks over at me and says this, "you're buff, how do you stay in shape?"

There are a few things I have not heard nearly enough in my life. One is, "make way for the incredibly handsome man." I have never heard that. Another is "my lord, no one has ever done that to me." Never have heard that. Another is "I will pay you back."

Mostly though, I have lived all these 28 years, or so, and never heard anyone say I was buff and wonder how I got that way. Because I am making notes on the bruises and abrasions I keep finding on my body, I did spend about 20 seconds this morning standing in front of a mirror, looking at the various bruises and wondering where they come from. I noticed then that for the first time in a few years I had a rib cage. Shocking.

So, there I was, trying to figure out an answer to how I stay in shape. I told him, I cycle in the morning, I run and cross train in the evening and for the past few weeks I throw up every meal I eat, like a high school cheerleader.

It was funny only because the good looking man and the good looking women nodded knowingly when I told them I cycled in the mornings and they kept nodding when I told them I run and cross train in the evenings and then when I mentioned the throwing up part, their little smiles turned upside down and they seemed to focus on the pads of paper in front of them.