I Love Irony

In the interest of trying to get my aging body into some kind of decent shape, especially as curling season approaches and I will be expected to sweep rocks, I am making an effort to spend thirty minutes on a treadmill each day.

So far I've made it two straight days. The journey of a thousand miles and all; it's worth something. And I don't even hurt, nor have I really been all that winded when I've stopped. A bit sweaty, but I'm not truly out of breath. Maybe I'm not in such bad shape after all.

I feel I have the right incentive to keep the regimen going strong. You see, I drink a beer as I walk the treadmill at a pretty brisk pace; I time myself at about 75 steps per minute. The beer is my incentive to keep pushing; a few steps, take a swig.

Now I know some of you purists out there think I'm defeating the purpose of the workout. So it goes; it's nevertheless exercize, and I like the juxtaposition. Besides, how many of us drink when we bowl or curl? So unless you don't believe that bowling or curling qualifies as exercize, I rest my case. And if you don't think curling is exercize, come out to the ice and try it. That'll change your mind.

The beer we drink while playing will surely help you see the light.