a public repentance

Forgive me, Pilates, for I have sinned.

It has been two, maybe two and a half weeks, since I have worshiped at your altar. I blame Writing; she’s a jealous lover, and I was impressed with myself for remaining your disciple as long as I did.

But now I understand the error of my ways. Now I understand that you, too, are a harsh mistress, and I am reminded of why it is your name, in its original Greek translation, is thought to mean “makes my muscles burn like fire”. I was not a fool, Pilates. I did the weeniest workout I had on hand, and yet you still kicked my ass. Or my abs, more accurately.

I will return to you on Thursday, Pilates. I will sacrifice my body on your altar. I will try not to weep with the howling agony of neglecting you. But if you need me before then, I’ll be the one sprawled on the couch, unable to move further even if the house is burning down around me.

ytd km swum: 42.2
miles to Minas Tirith: 253