I’m feeling it. Man, am I feeling it. You see that woman walking a little slower around the grocery store and easing herself into her minivan afterward? That’s me. I thought I could handle a measly set of three-pound weights at my return to exercise. I thought wrong and I’m feeling the burn.

I wish I was one of those runners. Or bicyclists. Or gym junkies. It’s just not me. I’m more step class/jazzercise, which is hard when it seems to once again be passé in our limited-optioned Imperial Valley. I’m not willing to risk throwing out my already-sensitive lower back lifting tires or jumping over boxes. I wish I could. It’s just not me.

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