Getting Physical

I've been working out everyday this week.

I haven't been to the gym, but I've been working out.

As soon as I get home from work, I take the cross-legged dog out for her evening walk. Then I return home, remove my coat, gloves, hat, and scarf and slip into my cheerleading shorts.

Then I turn on the TV to Geraldo or whatever crap show is on and I lay on the couch and pull an old comforter up to my chin.

It is there that I'm working out.

It's called mental workouts-- I made it up myself. While Geraldo is calling the world a collective group of racists, I think of a treadmill. And then I picture myself on the treadmill. I spend the next 20 minutes imagining myself running on the treadmill, during commercials of course because sometimes that Geraldo really is a hoot. Yesterday I ran for three and a half miles.

It was a good workout.

And afterwards I feel tired, but the good tired with the runner's high. And I imagine my muscles getting stronger and the winter insulation disappearing. I think it's working.

I'm getting physical.

And by physical, I mean mental.