There I was. All set for an Asian cultural experience. Sumo wrestling with a gen-u-ine Japanese commentary. The preparations seemed a little elaborate - the salt, the pacing (waddling), the almost tender pre-match chest bump - but I was trying to be gracious. Em, on the other hand, was a little more blunt in her opinions, hence, this blog's title. I like the idea of sumo-wrestling - the kid who got picked on in school is now the one everyone else is cheering on. But having now actually watched it, I'm not such a fan. One thing that does impress me about sumo wrestlers however, is their ability to put on - and maintain - serious weight in a culture where rice makes up so much of any meal. I'm not in Japan, but the Korean diet isn't all that different, and I am dropping the kilos. Still plenty of 'puppy fat' and limited muscle bulk, but I am definitely a lesser man than I was pre-Korea.
Married to a qualified personal trainer is helping, I'm sure. It's taking all my wiles to ensure we only go running 3 days a week. In Year 12 my school required that all students run 6km, which I promptly walked and came 109th out of 120 boys. Since then I've had the vague aspiration to one day run 6km without stopping. I told Em this, and my vague aspiration became her focused goal (for me). I managed it a few times a couple of weeks ago, but since then Em has had a throat infection, which obviously meant I couldn't exercise. They amped up her antibiotics meds the other day and it is clearing up, but now I have a convenient throat infection of my own. This one doesn't require medication, but it should keep me from having to run for another day or two yet.
This blogging business is hard! My life isn't interesting enough to justify three full paragraphs on, and if I write about Em, she will have nothing to write about. Thus I am signing off. To our faithful 6 readers, peace out, hombres.
Is the running or writing harder?
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