A Casual Date with Exercise

Exercise and I broke up. Or maybe we’re just separated. We had a little fight because Holiday Baking Season came into town, and Exercise didn’t like that I was spending all my free time flirting with her chocolate frosting and fawning over her sugar cookies. I don’t blame her for being jealous. How can she compete with pure sugar?  Sugar, who just wants to sit and spoil you. No, Exercise is high maintenance. Demanding. Unforgiving. And I’m not sure I can commit. Especially when she makes me feel like a great strapping viking—clunking down the road with my cropping up shorts and flabby thighs.

But I’m trying to reconcile. Trying to make it work. Trying to balance my relationships.

Just the other day I knew I was going to be eating a heavy dessert. It is my birthday week after all. So I was trying to figure out a way to burn enough calories to dive shamelessly into a heaping mess of dessert without actually throwing off the delicate balance of my bathroom scale. And the only way I knew how to negate my eventual feelings of consumer’s guilt was to make a date with Exercise. But it’s too soon for running. Too soon for the elastic shorts. Too soon for sweat.

But there’s a problem with gradual reconciliation. My dear sweet husband hates to “sort of” exercise. And by “sort of” I mean medium grade—as in anything that doesn’t make you sweat. He likes his exercise like he likes his salvation: all the way or nothing at all. He requires running, pumping, and burning. Otherwise, thank you, no.

But he has a wife that is sneaky with her exercise.

“Darling baby bumper butt? Can we go to the zoo today?” Yes, dear reader, the zoo. Because it’s the perfect place to walk around for hours without thinking about walking around for hours. The perfect place for “sort of” exercising. Mindless calorie burning.

“And let’s take our camera to take shots of the animals. It will be very exciting and reckless and dangerous. Minus the wire fences and moats,” I added. Because I’m tricky. I know he has a weakness for danger. And photography. It was a perfect plan. He’d never miss the slow leak of evaporating calories.

With a smirk on my face and a skip in my step, we went to the zoo.

And guess what? Photography actually met us there.

Take this photo, for instance. I love the way this rhino practically blends into the background. I caught him with his eyes shut, like he’s purring or something. And I love how the sun was positively beaming afternoon light. It’s like he found perfect peace. Side note: I never realized what Seussian ears Rhinos have.

And here’s Brandon and his butterflies again. I don’t know how he gets these shots, but the detail is excellent. I love the pink of the flower in contrast to her black body. Want to know something weird? Some guy followed Brandon from the lemurs to the turtles to the crocodiles to the bougainvillas. He’d wait until Brandon walked a little ways away and then take the same shot. Even with this butterfly. On a random bush. In a zoo with obscure creatures.

I still don’t know what that was about.

This shot was taken for my mother. Because she’s been filling my young married life with everything flamingo. Plates. Bowls. Napkin holders. Socks. Towels. Take your pick. So I tried to pick up the reflection of the birds in the water, but it didn’t come out quite like I hoped. I think I need to be a bit more level with the water, and maybe a little closer to the birds. I’d like a little more color contrast as well. How do photos like this work?

But my favorite photo of the day was taken by Brandon. No surprise there. Is he good at everything? Sigh. I love the blur of the leaves, like we’re catching the elephant in a private moment. And I love her big, long snuffleupagus eyelashes.

By the time we were done, it turned into a date with Photography, although Exercise was tagging along somewhere behind. I think it was a good first step toward a rekindled relationship. I just want to take things slow. Keep my boundaries. Pray about it. You know, make sure we do this right.