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It really is the shoes...

Tonight I went to my parents’ gym here in Rochester, with new shoes. I did the elliptical trainer and some walking, more than I usually do--did--at the gym in Boston (of which I am no longer a member)... And my feet don’t hurt. Normally my feet hurt after that kind of workout.

I guess something about Nikes is actually worth the money. I haven’t bought Nikes, out of, I dunno, political stance or cheapness or just avoiding the ubiquitous brand. But my aunt bought these for my cousin, in the wrong size, and she sent them to my mom. And they happened to fit perfectly.

Weird coincidence, actually; I wonder if there’s a conspiracy behind it somehow, I wouldn’t put it past my mom to do something crazy to make me get new shoes... But she wouldn’t have bought them without having me try them on, and I saw them arrive with the box, so I think it’s just a testament to the weirdness of her sister, my aunt.

The gym is incredible. The things you can do in the Midwest, where space isn’t at such a premium. The place was huge, it had every exercise machine imaginable. and a track. and basketball courts. and handball. squash. tennis. pools. steam rooms. outdoor pools. foosball!

Oh, and I shoveled snow today with my dad. That was cool.

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highway
crs
just a guy made of dots and lines
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