I wish I could explain my love of pie.

Sometimes, it's not normal. I guess I should know this about myself by now . . . but NO, it still suprises me.

Last week, I had the gracious opportunity to enjoy two Thanksgiving dinners! And they were both really good. Day one: friends came over, I stressed, I ate, I felt better. We talked about stuff, and talked some more . . . it wasn't so much about the dinner, but the dinner was excellent. I ate more of it the next day!

Then the "real" deal came and that was about the end of it all.

I can't say I know why, but I ate about 4 slices of pie that day. Hmmm . . . . That amounts to about 5 pounds of expansion.

Thing is, I've been working so hard to "shape up" lately. Weeks and weeks of sweat and hard work down the pipe and onto the belly. Yes. ONTO the belly in the form of jiggles.

In other news. I just last night pulled out my inline skates from when I was in college. I think I'll try riding them again. Should be less impacting on my knees and hips. Whatever. It's just another way for me to enjoy my workouts. I have to learn how to skate again, though. The last time I tried was . . . well, in college. I remember very clearly.

I remember it was a cold morning. And cold mornings in Denton, TX are magnificent. Just glorious! So, I thought, "I'm going to ride my skates today!" I'd just gotten them. I'd only been on them something like, twice. Once in the grass, once holding on to a parked car. Yeah, I was a novice. So, I'm out in my parking lot, just kinda pushing myself off of cars, coasting for a few feet, and then pushing off again under my own power. So, after about 10 or 15 minutes, I start to get the "feel" for it under my feet. I mean, it wasn't too hard. I'd been ice skating, and it felt very much the same. And it was cold. And the ground was cold. And the air was crisp. And the sky was a particularly brilliant blue that morning. I was feeling good, man. I was feeling alright! So, I'm putting the rest of my gear on, wrist guards, elbow and knee pads, helmet . . . I'm feeling confident that I'm no longer a novice and I can venture out into the real world and enjoy my day. So, I push off and head down towards the rear of my building. There was a hill back there, probably about 45 degree slope downward. I figured I should try a hill just to make sure I know what I'm doing -- before going out into traffic and all. As I approached the slope, I think, "You know, I should probably bend over like a downhill skier and really hook that forced left turn at the bottom." Mistake. A whoaful mistake.

First, I learned an important lesson in physics: The less friction (say, wheels), the faster the moving moving body (say, me) moves down an incline (45 degrees of gravity-pulling asphalt hill). Second, I learned that the "wake and bake" philosophy of a college student tends to impare judgement, and make one feel more confident than one should. Third, I learned that it's tough to remain over your wheels while you're bending at the waist to crouch like an experienced downhill skier while going down and asphalt hill. You can imagine the result. Yes.

It was all going pretty good until I attempted the left hand hook turn. I remember watching my feet rise and continue in an arc over my head. I remember the peaceful feeling of weightlessness as I experienced flying on my back for the first time. I remember how serene the crisp north Texas sky looked from that particular angle. . . .

When I came to, the dust was settling, I was thinking how unpleasant it would be taking the asphalt out of my butt. The frat guys that lived in the frat house next door were pointing and laughing. The wrist guards and helmet did their jobs, as did the elbow and knee pads -- I sustained no injuries there. My pride was wounded, so was my butt and my back. As I sat there and took off my blades, searching for any flesh I may have deposited on that hill, I decided that was that. I never put those skates on again until last night.

I'm going to try again. I'm going to do good this time. I'll let you know how it goes.

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