Workout

The sweat rolls off his brow, six miles into the workout. I don't even break a sweat anymore until I go over four miles he thinks to himself. His pace is way too low, 11 minute miles. But he feels good.

Swimming in the pool, the chlorine level so high the next day when he washes his hair the residue rinses down into his eyes and it burns them. He makes a mental note to bring his swimming goggles.

While he works out, his thoughts tend to drift to her.. a one-sided relationship, a dream goddess - oddly - no intention of catching her. A psychological diversion. Her image maintains itself calmly, implacably in his mind - Attractive. Clever. Desirable. Polyamorous. That last bit always gets him. He knows he is a swinger also... he has not idolized her. He forgets to think about her sometimes. How strange to describe that he simply wants her to be alive, doesn't really want to meet her or make love to her - just wants her and her child to be healthy. Happy. Strong. Some bond passed between them he cannot understand. She's just a girl.

LA Fitness broadcasts "the bachelor" flat-panel from the roof one by one along the row of the running machines. He watches 9 women vie for an attractive male with a young boy, eligible. And reading the teleprompter. A trained actor. He notices the characteristics. Reality TV is almost always staged in some way.

Three commercial breaks, 11 minutes, 1.5 miles, sweat rolling from him in sheets now, he barely notices. He decides he will run until the last two are dropped.

After his workout he shops alone at the WalMart nearby. He is alone often, even though he is married. Her instability weighs on him. When she is asleep, he gets things done. He does not feel trapped. He is faithful to her. And yet... sometimes his thoughts drift to other women. He can't deny it. Mostly, just one..

He remembers a T-shirt he saw on a woman at HobbyTown.

"Some call it stalking. I call it True Love."

He smiles to himself and drives himself home through the cold dark night. At midnight he writes on his blog, while he runs code in the background. Waiting for it to complete.

Salt on his skin. He hits publish and wanders off into a world of warcraft..

I fly like paper get high like a plane.. take me to the border got visa's in my name