third circle of hell

I'm too old, too slow, too everything to play professional sports so I had to consider other ways to destroy my body before my dotage. While weighing my options one of hell's minions delivered the keys to the door of the third circle of hell, behind which an ergometer, a rowing machine perhaps better known as an ERG, the safer alternative was hiding.

Try it you'll like it. I recommend a daily dose. Call it therapy. I have for the past week with a monster trainer.  During my first attempt, which lasted all of a minute thirty, I wished to die.  My entire body ached, which really set me off.  I knew I was in better shape than that.  Day by day my time and speed  improve, I'm can now machine row 2 miles in 18 minutes. I still wish to die when I stop, but it will be a faster more pleasant death now. The ERG is the first and only exercise regime in my life that I've truly enjoyed for an entire week. I love the personal challenge of me against me.

Apparently there are real rowers who ride these machines for sport.  Undoubtedly fueled by boys and beer, the World Indoor Rowing Championships were held last weekend.  Competitive rowers, boys and girls of all ages, attempt to cover the water equivalent of 2000 meters as quickly as possible.

Of the 27 boys in my weight and age group today I'd finish 98th, only 20 seconds behind last place. Not bad for a rookie.

Toad

Nerve Center

This little gadget is the nerve center for our family, it's Mrs. T's cell phone, the one that replaced her bag phone when it was taken away by the digital cell phone police. You may recall I washed it one day without harming it. It's on its original billing plan too.

Over time the percentage time spent talking has dwindled while messaging has increased.  To my mind a ten second phone call is more efficient than the mandatory 15 texts necessary to clarify anything, but since I do not have a cell phone I don't getta vote.

Monday the messaging capability went away, leaving a member of our household in a panic.  Naturally, one assumes the worst, and fully expecting she'd have to pop for a new phone, we visited the cell phone company store Thursday afternoon.  It took the clerk a moment to remember how to deal with her phone, but once he figured things out, he asked "are you getting a low memory error?"

Why yes, we are.

"Let me show you how to delete old messages...."  -This to a woman with 16,000 new emails.

Within minutes we were out the door, problem solved, old phone better than new, good for another 10 years, all on the original plan.  Thank you Sprintman.

Toad