My New Regimen

I believe I've rambled on pretty much ad nauseum about the "fitness" routine I started almost two years ago now. (And by fitness, of course, I mean ability to get up to change the television channel without becoming short of breath.)

Anyway, I've done pretty well getting up every morning way earlier than I prefer, putting on my stretchy pants (oh, so pretty), and only occasionally muttering I-hate-this-I-hate-this-I-hate-this as I trudge down to the basement. Then it's 25 minutes on the exercise bike at target heart rate, 15 minutes on the elliptical ditto, and a five-minute walk around the block to cool down because by now I am sweating in a way frightens young children and everyone else.

This morning I had gotten as far as the walk around the block part of my routine. It was a cool, rainy morning in Small Town, a rarity for a Kansas August, so I actually was enjoying myself in that virtuous, self-congratulatory way that accompanies the final song on my fitness playlist. That's when I saw a grey cat on the sidewalk a few yards in front of me. It had its front paws up on the glass door of the attorney's office that's a couple of doors down from the House on the Corner, and obviously was trying to get in.

"Isn't that cute?" I said to myself, smiling through the sweat. And then the cat turned and came toward me.

Are you seeing what I suddenly saw at that moment? That cat's tail was a little...odd. I took a step or two nearer, and the cat, rather than scampering away as most of our feral cats do, lunged in my direction.

Now do you see what I saw?

No? Now about now?

Yes, I know this is a terrible picture. You're being critical at a moment like this?

IT'S AN ARMADILLO. And it was as close to me as you are right now, assuming you live in my computer modem, as I always have assumed.

Everything I know about armadillos flashed through my brain: They're mean little suckers that will claw you as soon as look at you. They're surprisingly good runners. They smell terrible. Their defense against predators is to jump straight up into the air, which is not always an effective tactic in frightening 18-wheelers hence the number seen "resting" along the roadside.

They also have a keen sense of smell, extremely sharp claws, and poor eyesight, and the combination of those traits might lead this one to think I'm yummy yummy roadkill that would make a delicious breakfast.

And that's when I added running to my exercise routine.