Letters to Holly

Thursday, May 12

A Bad Night for Doom

Yeah, dinner didn't go so well last night. Your Sister liked it. Not I.

She went to yoga, and I put the sidekick down. She returned with a notice of free classes this weekend at the club, including some faux fighting exercise classes I've been curious about. I'm going to at least one of them; two of my high school buddies are certified instructors in a type of Body Combat/Flow/Something Something.

I occasionally try side kicks to see if I've retained anything from my very brief Te Kwon Do and Aikido classes, and I think I can walk into an introductory class and keep up. If nothing else, I'll use this and the recent gardening and lawn mowing to prepare me for running again. I'm keen on the idea of muscle confusion lately; last year's race was a failure because I only ran.

Your Mom dropped off bags of old race souvenir shirts, and I picked out a dozen or so to wear in the yard. She came by the house to watch The Boy while Your Sis talked to the local priest about baptizing him. I've so far heard no details. Maybe we can make him muy macho if we dip him in gasoline.

I printed out my table display signs this morning. We're inching ever closer.

Picture of the Day
There may not be anyone in there.

No comments: