Breaking up is hard to do...

We found each other in the Pittsburgh Airport almost 10 years ago in March. You were perfect for me: strong, not too clingy. I was so comfortable with you whether we were snuggling in bed or running around town. People would approach me to ask about you, to gush about how good you looked and how they could find another like you. I knew that you were irreplaceable, I tried, but none could measure up to you. I could count on you through thick and through thin, through good times and bad. I should have known that our time together was about to end. I could see the signs. You were tired, stretched thin. I looked at you today I knew it was over. It should have been over long ago. But I held onto you hoping that I could make it work, maybe we could just be together at home until I found another that could compare to you. You've even had work done so that you would look more attractive to me. But when I held you today I saw you as you really are, not as I remember. I noticed the waist-band half hanging out, the frayed holes, and the fact that I could read a newspaper through you in places that I prefer remain opaque.

Goodbye Gap yoga pants. I will miss you.

Role Models

Months after reading this and mentioning it here, I am still in love with this woman. She is living proof of where we can all be at 83. My favorite yoga instructor in Ann Arbor was 72, and his busy schedule included teaching at least 4 hours of yoga every week.

At last year's Run Thru Hell (Hell, MI), I was talking to a man who had run every Detroit Marathon since the race started in 1978. More notable than his level of physical fitness was the level of happiness radiating out of this guy. He was having a great time doing what he loved to do.

That's something we can lose sight of. It's not totally about being a size 2. It's about being mindful, taking care of yourself, and having fun while doing it. Thank goodness there's a whole generation (or 2) of people still around to show us the way.

Going to workout now.