Gym Rat

Have I mentioned I spend an inordinate amount of time at the gym? I can’t remember if I’ve mentioned that. After all, this is not a fitness blog, it’s a going-back-to-school blog. Nonetheless, it’s true: I’m a gym rat. I love the gym. I fell in love with weight training about nine years ago and haven’t looked back since. I’m there four nights a week on a good week, three on a bad week. Before I went back to school, I was often there five nights a week.
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Check For Boots

It began a week ago, when I saw the forecast for the first day of class — 5°F. Horror. Panic. Anger. The realization that I don’t own a proper pair of cold weather boots nor a sufficiently-warm sub-arctic coat. I’ve been spoiled. I’ve spent the last ten years snugly transporting myself from place to place in my car, dashing from its warm interior to my warm destination like a skittish cat. Last winter I drove to class with my staff parking permit and parked just outside the engineering building, gazing smugly at all the bundled students clustered on the sidewalks. Suckers.
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