It was bound to happen eventually.
In New York I spent four months walking a couple of miles each day and navigating seven flights of stairs at NYU's Main Building.
I've spent the last two months sitting on my bum on the computer and on the sofa.
Consequently, a good number of my pants have been benched until a better, more active, day.
It's not that I'm unhappy with how I look. If it weren't for the pants and an unfortunate semi-annual trip to the scale, I probably would never have known. But the inactivity means more to me than a lack of comfy khakis. The problem is that I have the stamina of an 800-pound, seventy-year-old man. I've started doing aerobics in the morning to one of these "Over 40 and Fabulous!" programs on PBS. The damn thing kicks my ass on a routine basis. This cannot pass.
Washington summers are supposed to be nice and humid. Maybe that will be the solution. Until then I'll have to be content with occasional trips to the Metro.