Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Huff and Puff

My daughter loves when my wife tells her the story of the 3 Little Pigs. In fact, she'll often ask my wife to blow down several of her imaginary houses per hour. This means my wife spends much of her day getting lightheaded and nearly passing out.

"Huff and puff, mom."

Little does my daughter know that her father has started huffing and puffing too.

Now that I have a new job, I've decided to park my car in a lot that is not right near my building. This forces me to get out and walk for a minute before I sit down to my desk.

Being as skinny as I am, I forget how out of shape I am until I have to walk more than 3 feet. I can only imagine how comical I look as I stagger up the last flight of stairs, doubled over and wheezing as if I'd just completed a marathon.

Still, I'm crossing my fingers that someday I'll be able to walk up a hill without feeling like I should have invested in one of those Life Alert necklaces.

1 comment:

Christie said...

It didn't matter what kind of shape I was in . . . I NEVER walked up the south campus stairs without thinking I was going to die. Good luck!