I'm screwed

I told Liv I wanted to climb a mountain with her next year. That entails doing something that I should have been doing all along...getting my ass in shape. So tonight, I brought in the agent of my transformation,

*drumroll please*

The Nordic Track, circa 1974.

So sure, maybe it doesn't look like much. There's no electricity involved. I just get on the contraption and glide my way to a great pair of legs, a rock-hard ass, and maybe a much stronger back. Ok, ok, so I haven't been on the thing in more than 6 months. So I had to hold on for a half kilometer until I found my rhythm again. It will come and you will be insanely jealous of D's calves in no time.

I brought it in from the cold. I washed off the dust. I stepped on the skis and took a few strides. It squeeked like a mother. I found the turbine lubricant (don't ask) and greased up the moving parts and ran it through a 1 km ride. No more squeeky.

But D cannot exercise by Nordic Track alone, because the iPod bit the dust and demusicified Nordic Track is impossible to bear. So, I will be coupling said cross-den skiing torture with a little bit of sweetness.

Sweetness in the form of Shaun T.

Shaun T of Hip Hop Abs.

Oh yeah.

I forsee a promising climbing season in 2009. That is, if Liv can tear me away from my personal trainer. I wonder if I could load Hip Hop Abs on one of those second generation iPods. =]