a walk
I take my small dog out for his morning walk and though we don’t go very far, we investigate every inch of our neighbors’ yards. Nearby red flowers bloom over a weathered white picket fence.
When I first got him I worried my own lack of activity would be a struggle. I figured that all dogs need a mile walk twice a day. It quickly became apparent that wasn’t possible with him. My pug loves to explore but isn’t as interested in walking. He goes outside mainly for socialization: tracing around the houses of his friends, often sitting in their yards and waiting stubbornly for them to come outside.
I find it annoying if not a bit endearing. Dogs are not humans, but regardless I admire his strong will. He knows what he wants and isn’t afraid to ask for it. Each day, regardless of the struggle, he will try again. He says hello to everyone he meets. He’s always eager to make a friend.
a workout
Changing my body is not as easy as I would hope. I am vigilant of failure, certain that if I miss a week of working out I will get complacent and fall back into old habits. New muscle forming makes me optimistic, as does the compliments of online men thirsting after my misshapen frame.
“Damn bro.” One of them says. “You are really fucking swole, I didn’t realize.”
“Lighting and angles mostly,” I joke back. “I’ve been slowly working out more.”
“Your body naturally packs on mass,” he says. “Makes you look big as hell.”
