it's finally happened.

I sort of doubted this day would ever come. People told me it would, and I scoffed. Harumphed. Chortled. Did not buy into their obviously delusional tales. But now it's happened to me, and there's no way around it.

I love working out.

Now to the disclaimers: As I've previously discussed, I am a gold medal-winning procrastinator. So I guess I shouldn't be surprised that when faced with a several month-long project (oh hi...have I mentioned I'm getting married? I have? A million times? Good...I'm glad we've covered that.), I look to a procrastination device with equal staying power. Somehow, the hour a day that I try to set aside to work out has become one of the day's highlights. I'm working hard, and moving, and finally unable to stare at a computer screen. It's wonderful. If I was somehow doing this to lose weight for the wedding then I'd feel even more productive - but I'm an (ex-)athlete. I don't know how to do low-impact exercises that only burn weight, without adding muscle. It feels better to work hard, and if that means that my arms are getting more muscular again, so be it. That's probably what my body's supposed to be like anyway.

[This, however, is not my end goal. I've never cared about doing this. Michael's going to be so disappointed in me for saying that.]

Now I'm laboring under no false delusion that this state will last indefinitely...I'm very aware that I'll probably get tired of this again and start using some other procrastination device. But in the meantime, it's nice to love something that's so good for you. Why can't all obsessions be good for you? Chipotle, I'm looking at you...