We need to work our muscles over here. Days filled with blogging, studying and riding the bus (in my case) or working at a desk, reading books and playing video games (in Z’s case) don’t seem to be maximizing our physical fitness. Who knew? Without putting too fine a point on it, we could both stand to sweat more.

My favourite way to get exercise is as a side effect of daily life. Using a bicycle for transportation is the optimal solution- taking the stairs and walking to get groceries also do the trick. But in the neverending rain it’s harder to get excited about an hour-long bike ride to school and last winter sometimes weeks went by where I take the bus to school. For Z it’s even harder to incorporate physical activity into his day – he works from home, so there’s nowhere to walk to on a daily basis.

So! There’s this beginners’ triathlon in a small town a few hours from here that happens every summer. Z signed up to do it with a group of friends one year, and ended up wanking on it for one reason or another. (Haha, spell-check doesn’t recognize “wanking.” Or wank, for that matter. Wanky!)

Ahem.

Then, this past summer, he and a friend decided to do it together. His friend bailed after a few months of training, and he sort of gave up.

Right now, my boy is in probably the worst shape of his life and feels bad about himself. I would dearly love to help him out. Partly self interest, of course – he is beautiful now, but damn, he’d be hot if he lost a few pounds. We could eat better, of course, but I think the big ticket for him is more exercise. He’s built to climb mountains and lift heavy things, not sit and type all day.

As for me – I’m lucky enough to be a tense little person with a high metabolism. I’m not overweight. But I do have a soft little belly and I should have way more strength and stamina for things like biking up big hills. My doctor, in one of her moments of actually discussing my health with me, mentioned that physical exercise would be really good for my anxiety, which can get pretty crippling. Finally, as I keep relentlessly mentioning in this blog, we hope to have a baybee in the next few years, and if all goes well, I will be needing to push said human being *out of my hoohaw*. I understand that being in shape is a good idea for that sort of endeavour.

So – should I tell him I want to do this triathlon with him next summer? It’s not a real triathlon, but a shorter version for beginners. As part of our training, Z would have to teach me to swim pretty much from scratch – no way in hell I could swim 500 meters or whatever it is at the present, even to save my life. We’d need to set up a training schedule and be committed about it – limited flexibility.

If I mention it, I’m 90% sure he’ll be in. I’ll also have to be 100% committed myself, and can be pretty sure that at some point I will wish I’d never even thought of it. He’s bailed and been bailed on in the past – so if I so much as say I’m interested to him, I have to mean it. Even though next summer is going to be when my final project for school is wrapping up, and HELLO ANXIETY!

I’m going to think about this for a week or two, then once classes are underway for the winter and I’m good and stressed out, I’ll check if the idea is still palatable. Helping Z get in shape is a noble goal, but for this to be a success, I’d have to want it for myself.

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