Sometimes I have a hard time being labeled as an "adult". Even if it is through the eyes of a stranger. I don't feel like an adult. Most of the time. I still see myself as that tripped out, stumbling through life seventeen year old that was ten years ago. A (slightly) more mature version of that kid, but that same kid just the same. When I go to buy alcohol I'm always afraid the clerk will think my ID is a fake (even though I've had people tell me I look far older than I am, thank you a-holes!). Whenever a telemarketer calls I still think I will be getting the same "Well hello little girl, is your mommy home?" that I became accustomed to. (to which I always wanted to respond "Why hello stupid fucker, I'm actually a seventeen year old DUDE and no my fucking mommy is not home!"). I still laugh at work when I hear words like (and I work in the plumbing industry, so these words are commonplace); plumber's caulk, galvanized nipple, ball cock, pipe dope and so on.

So I kind of just assume I'm a still youngster. And it's not like I'm actually old or anything, I'm only 27 for shit's sake. And I used to be active. Climbing, cycling, hiking, swimming and snow related sports. And I really don't do much. I mean, I still hike once a week (if I'm lucky) in the sun deprived months. Certainly not the level of activity that my body was once accustomed to.

And this is where the whole feeling like a fucking testosterone driven kid really comes to bite me in the ass. Why? Because I get all nostalgic over the thought of my seventeen year old body (and it wasn't anything special. Just the floor model. But it wasn't round in the middle) and decide that doing something like say, going for a run, is a good idea. And I think it is actually a good idea. An idea. Because I swear to jeebus that two fucking miles of running (jogging) makes me feel like I'm going kiel over in the middle of the last fifty feet of road and, my dog will have to drag ass my ass through the stank funk gutter (laughing all the way) to the front door. And then after my dog figured out how to oppose her thumby-claw thing on her ankle, and open the door, drag me in, and put me into a cold shower, she brings in two of my son's number floor pad things, an eight and a seven. "that's how old you acted out there" she communicates cleverly to me, and then turns and takes herself for another run. Avoiding the stares of the neighbors that just witnessed her dragging her Benjamin Button looking owner home.

The point is that I actually am getting fucking older. Shits changing (not literally shit. You literal people freak me out). And it kind of sucks. To realize that you can't just take off and play a game of kickball with friends without a physical fitness hangover. So I am making my first ever resolution. It so happens I have made this first resolution over and over again in the past three years, but it's still my first one. And that is to get my ass back in shape. I feel like calling my old swim coach so he can force my ass into the steaming cold pool at five in the morning (seriously, that shit used to steam and you'd be all excited cause it looks hella warm. Yeah, because it's five fucking o'clock and anything thing looks warm. Especially the bed you just left). Or I need to dig out my old climbing gear and find my way to something climbable. But for now I'm going to stick with my running. Because it's the laziest way for me to exercise (if that ain't one hell of an oxymoron). And with any luck I'll bring my Wii age down to a reasonable number.

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