soft spot for hard guy

once there was a girl (nearly two years ago) who could run 8 miles every morning, evening at dusk, at 10pm, at midnight, whenever, and then go to work, class, a party. no sweat. somehow she's become a woman who has spent the last two days with screaming quadriceps and aching calf muscles for attempting to pull off one hour of no-impact aerobic activity after two full months of absolutely no activity.

uh.

i talked to a friend today who says he doesn't so much as stretch or walk for any purpose except to wake himself up or get himself to and from where he needs to be--usually between home, vehicle, office, printer. looking around me, seems he ain't so unusual.

huh.

there's this old dude on my block. my brother calls him "hard guy."
"oh," says my brother to me when i moved into my house just over 3 years ago. "you live next door to hard guy."
"why do you call him that?" i ask, new to the neighborhood.
"because he always walks on the the street, he always takes off his shirt, and he always wears that bandana."
hard guy, i must tell you, is probably 65 years old. and he walks just like eric says. every day. usually more than once. and it snows here! it's cooooooooold here. it rains here. now don't be a smart-ass--of course he wears a jacket in the winter, but i bet he prefers to show off his magnificent 65-year-old pecks. shhhhhheit, if i looked like him, i would too.

UH-HUH.