Day 2 - It Only Hurts Every Time
Time thought I wasn't watching but I was.
I attempted to do my 45th low squat at the urgings of a sadistically polite digital trainer. As the proxy trainer encouraged me to put my ass lower to the ground like some form of hideous wobbly crab man, I looked to my left and observed. Time washed over me with an unpleasant warmth, the world went sideways for a second and I saw myself from above.
Apparently, the cinematographer of my life had picked just that moment to adjust perspectives. Instead of the tight "POV" lens I usually experienced my world through, I was suddenly looking down from a crane shot, the lighting muted by a Vaseline effect.
The man I saw looked nothing like me. He was round and soft. He seemed to be struggling and grunting with far more effort than it took to bend both knees and then stand up. His brow was covered with sweat and he seemed flushed deep red as his legs trembled from the effort.
A second later and the view seemed to change again. The old familiar screen crop returned and with it I got some perspective. I realized that amorphous blob I'd just seen - despite not matching my mental image - was actually me, or at least the old fat actor who had taken over my role when my life had been renewed for it's current season.
Time has a wry sense of humor it seems. I'm not ready to be an old fat man yet. I was determined to change that and for the next three days, Time continued to remind me that old people don't recover quickly from strenuous exercise...
I haven't seen Time since that day, but it's there, watching, laughing and waiting. They say time waits for no one, but the truth is it waits for us all. Time waits for the opportunity to show us that we aren't who we thought we were yesterday and we won't be who we are today when we get to tomorrow.
I'm not so sure I like Time all that much.
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