Impossible Things Before Breakfast

Dearest Rachel –

Lewis Carroll’s Red Queen claimed that she prided herself on believing “six impossible things before breakfast.” I’m not nearly so ambitious, honey – indeed, I rarely bother to try to believe the impossible at all, let alone so many such things at once – but just for today, it seemed like I could manage one or two.

The first of which being that I was actually looking forward to getting to the gym first thing in the morning, right when the place was to open. I even slept in my clothes (which, in fairness, I had just put on a five in the evening after coming home from walking with Lars and showering) so as to not slow myself down with the hassle of getting dressed when I woke up – apart from my gym shorts, which I still prefer not to wear out in public. Granted, this wasn’t out of any particular real desire to do so, other than to get it over with, and be home and cleaned up before Kris arrives this morning to clean the house. Besides, as she was to do so, I was hoping to do a slightly-overdue laundry, and getting one last batch of sweaty gym togs in the wash cycle would be a good thing as well.

Secondly, while I woke up a bit too early at first – around four this morning – I managed to get back to sleep, and found myself dreaming of being in a conference room with Mohinder, of all people. And before you get too worried for me, understand that he was offering similar encouragement about by weight regimen that Lars had been yesterday afternoon over lunch. If that doesn’t count as an impossible thing to believe, I don’t suppose anything does.

Now, it may be too ridiculously early to start the morning – and it’s hardly up to Red Queen standards – but as beginnings go, I’d call that reasonably good.

***

To be sure, it wasn’t as if anything after that went impossibly well. I managed to maintain a burn rate of ten calories per minute for the hour-twenty or so I was in the fitness center. I tried to keep up a rate of a hundred meters rowed every twenty-five seconds, and was disappointed to not break six-and-a-half minutes; it was only after I got home and ran the calculations that, at that pace, I would only end up finishing my usual mile (well, okay, 1,600 meters) in 6:40. Does that count as believing in something impossible, especially when you prove that it is?

Likewise, my other exercises weren’t exactly record-breaking, either – but in all fairness, I don’t know if I actually have any benchmarks to break through to begin with. But all in all, while I never enjoy my time at the gym, I did manage to acquire the sense of accomplishment that comes with burning off so many calories in so little time.

***

I wish I could tell you that the impossible happened once I got home, and the scale actually showed that I was below 240 for the first time in I don’t know how long. I mean, I should probably be grateful for a read-out of 241 before I got into the shower, which has eluded me for almost as long. But after I got out and dried myself off, I decided to step on the scale once more; maybe, with the dirt and sweat rinsed away, I just might see something… impossible, perhaps?

Lo and behold, it read 239.5. Even stepping on the scale a second time, just to confirm it, gave me the same reading. This was groundbreaking! Well, actually, less groundbreaking than before, because I was that much lighter, but you know what I mean.

I had to get a picture of it, just to show you that it was true. So I ran to get my phone, stood back on the scale, snapped the shot, and (since I wasn’t wearing glasses at the time) peered at the photo…

…which showed the scale reading 241.5.

What?

Guess it wasn’t possible after all. At least, not yet.

Anyway, I think that’s enough impossibility for one morning; besides, I’m getting hungry after that workout. So with breakfast, I can set aside the need to believe the impossible, and just deal with reality for a while.

As I do, keep an eye on me, honey, and wish me luck. I’m going to need it