Monday, July 19, 2010

Focus, ladies!

I was in the locker room yesterday morning, changing into my workout gear, and overheard two very plump seventy-plus-year-old ladies chatting. They had just finished their water aerobics class, and were sitting half-naked and winded on the benches.

"Betty, I'm so sorry I didn't make it to class last week. I couldn't sleep the night before. Terrible. I just couldn't get out of bed the next morning."

"Oh I know, Ida. Insomnia is awful!"

"Really, I just couldn't get a wink of sleep."

"Well, I've often found that thinking about cleaning my oven works pretty well. I just think to myself 'I should clean that oven,' and by the time I get halfway down the stairs, I'm so tired I turn right around, go back upstairs and fall asleep instantly."


I couldn't help myself and burst out laughing. "Sorry, I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but that's just too funny. And you're totally right, of course. Ovens are diabolical!" I pulled on my sport shorts.

"It's true, isn't it? There's nothing like oven-cleaning to take the wind right out of your sails."


Betty piped up again. "Say, that's some hunk on the inside of your locker there!"

I turned, startled.

"That photo!" said Ida, pointing. "Yes, he's quite amazing. Is that your husband?"

"Sadly, no," I replied. "Though I hear Safin's quite a philanderer, so maybe I'm lucky after all."

"Men! They're just impossible." said Betty, shaking her head.

"I love his tattoo." Ida's eyes went all dreamy. "He looks like he's not even wearing any trunks." With great effort, she peeled off her wet suit and dropped it unceremoniously on the carpet.

"It's Marat Safin. He's a tennis player." I was going to add "and he's my secret boyfriend number 8" but wasn't sure they'd appreciate my sense of humor.

"Just goes to show, you're never too old," Betty chimed in, cackling.

"So true, ladies, so true," I replied.

"In my head, I'm still twenty-six. You go to the movies, and you still fall in love with the leading man. I'm not dead yet. Thank God." Ida sighed.

But what does this have to do with dieting, you ask? Not much. In fact, just this morning I got a sharp reprimand from Matt on court. "Focus, Ellie!" I was entirely distracted by the fact that Glenn had stripped off his shirt, six courts away.

"Think about tennis!"

Ah yes, easier said than done. And we should also be thinking about DIETING since the big deadline is only six weeks away. There's not much room for error at this point. Every little calorie counts.

I think Eleanore is still the closest to her goal. She's stopping at nothing; she even gave me a jar of chocolate covered cherries to try to sabotage reward my dieting efforts. You know that one, always thinking of others! I have a plan though, involving fewer peanut M&M's and chocolate covered cherries, and more exercise, along with large servings of fresh fruits and vegetables.

We'll see who cackles last.

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