Inspiration (Interlude)*

Friends and neighbors, it actually happened. This isn't some urban legend, where you hear a story about what someone's brother's friend did. No, this happened to me:

I found the girl of my dreams on an Internet dating site.

That isn't to say that she found me. This isn't a happily-ever-after story, or even a wild-and-crazy-roll-in-the-hay story. This is a story about inspiration. The sort of inspiration I mentioned in my previous fitness post, which I had already found, but which I now have in abundance.

Some years ago, I had a coworker. Actually, I had (and I have) a great many of them, as there are probably close to 1,000 employees at my office, but that's not important. What's important for my purpose is that this particular coworker was very, very special. She was pretty, of course, but then there are lots of pretty women around. She was smart, graceful and stylish. She had a silvery, musical laugh, a warm, friendly smile and all the other qualities that commend a young woman (to me, at least), and more.

I can't entirely put my finger on it. There was something about the way that she carried herself -- nothing as simple as good posture, it was more of a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, combined with a habit of looking slyly sideways at things that gave her a vaguely subversive air. I was (and I am) reading far too much into these and other clues, but the net effect is that I was convinced that she really was the girl of my dreams, in every possible way. Without even knowing it, she snagged my imagination and held it firmly. We never really spoke beyond the occasional "hello" in the hallways, but every time I saw her (and it could be weeks at a time between sightings) I was hooked all over again.

Time passed like that, and eventually she left that job for another one. Though I never saw her, I also never entirely forgot her. I might go months or years without thinking of her. I dated other women, with varying degrees of success, and eventually took a sabbatical from that whole scene. Distracted by any number of personal and professional circumstances, I let myself go and grew fat and sedentary (not for the first time, I'm afraid). But back in April, I'd had enough of that. One morning, I spontaneously got up off my butt and got back into an exercise routine. I stuck with it. A few weeks ago, I came upon some more inspiration (as I intend to discuss in a later post), and took things to another level. The results have been extremely encouraging, and I made plans for another increase in intensity, as soon as I've built up the basic fitness to support it.

And then, yesterday, it happened.

Yesterday, I found the girl of my dreams on an internet dating site.

There's no doubt that it's her. She's just as I remember her: the wonderful smile, the stylish good looks and especially those deep, sparkling, magical eyes. I had only seen her in a business context, but online she showed a side of herself I'd only imagined: dressed for a date, she's even sexier and more alluring than I'd expected. And the text of her profile, while otherwise entirely consistent with my idealized imagination of her, showed me explicitly what I'd always understood about her: fitness and exercise is vitally important to her. She wants someone as fit and as active as she is.

And if you've been reading this far, you'll realize that around that point, my already strong level of inspiration jumped up another few orders of magnitude.

Mind you, I'm not going to contact her or ask her out, not even once I'm in the best shape of my life. The cruel fact is that I'm just too old for her, and she's probably too young for me as well. OK, so I'm only one year above the range of ages her profile says she's looking for -- I was actually in her range until my recent birthday -- but even so, I just can't imagine that it would work.

I'll never touch her, never hold her, never speak with her. Most likely, I'll never even see her again in person. I'm fine with that. There's no bargaining with time, and there was just too much time between my birth and hers. But while we'll continue going our separate ways, it won't be because I'm out of shape.

I'm damned well going to be in the sort of shape that she'd go for, if only our ages matched up. There are plenty of wonderful women out there whose ages do match up with mine, and I expect (and I hope) that I'll find happiness with one of them. And if I don't, it won't be because I've obsessed about the girl I used to daydream about at the office.

But I'll always remember how finding the girl of my dreams gave me another jolt of inspiration.

-------

* Note: This post isn't the previously-promised Inspiration Part II. That post is still in progress, and will eventually be posted in accordance with my regular (glacial) pace. I'd apologize for the delay in posting the second piece, but then again no one reads this blog anyway. I'd feel bad about the fact that no one reads it, except that it's not written to be read, it's written for the sake of the act of writing, and satisfying (at least to some extent) my need for expression. The fact that this entire footnote is just so much navel gazing and talking to myself is perfectly in keeping with the spirit of the exercise.

Inspiration

One of the reasons I haven't posted much is that I've finally been getting some regular exercise in the mornings. I've started slowly, by necessity: I'm a 40-something who's been pretty much completely sedentary for more than a year, and have the body to show for it.

Earlier this year, by fits and starts, I managed to get into the gym now and then. It was better than nothing, but it wasn't the consistent effort that I need to get healthy and fit. Six weeks ago, I'd had enough of that. I simply made the decision that I was going to get started working out seriously, and do it without any further delay. Since then, I've used the elliptical machine four times a week. The machine has a heart rate sensor, and with the right settings it automatically adjusts the resistance level so that I'm exercizing at the right level of intensity. It's great -- I don't have to worry about "am I ready to move from level 4 to level 5" or anything like that, I just climb on, keep a steady pace, and by the time I'm done, 45 minutes later, I'll be dripping with sweat, almost (but not quite) gasping with the effort, and feeling the warm glow that comes from a good solid workout.

When I first started out, it didn't take much work at all to give me that effect. My year or more of laziness was showing. But consistent effort over time has already shown some results, and it's been heartening to see that it now takes a good bit more resistance to get my heart rate elevated than it used to.

But all of that is prologue. While my clothes are a little looser and my energy level is a little higher, I've barely even started on the road to fitness. I thought of what I'd done up to yesterday as something like laying a foundation -- I've got a solid place to build now, but I still haven't actually built anything. And with that thought in mind, I set out across the Internets to see what I should do next.

More on that later.