Physical exercise is its own reward. It doesn't matter if it gets recorded in a logbook or if anybody else sees you doing it. But of course, that doesn't stop me from quasi-obsessively keeping notes on my runs. And it certainly doesn't stop me from feeling a foolish pride when someone who knows me happens to see me pounding the pavement, especially at an outrageous location or time.
So in recent months I've received a bonus of joy when my former boss Pat happens to be on his way in to the office gymnasium at 5:30am and spots me outbound with comrade Kristin for a pre-dawn trek. Pat is a retired FBI Special Agent with a dry sense of humor in addition to a serious work(out) ethic. One morning as we chat en passant in the men's locker room Pat teaches me a new phrase: "Executive Workout". It's his term for what certain senior colleagues used to do when they showed up hyper-early at the gym not to sweat but simply for a quick shower. They got seen in proximity to exercise machines, and then they got to their desks before most of their minions. All just for looks and boasting rights!
^z - 2013-03-26