Day 28 of unemployment: took Bean to Runyon Canyon and made lunch.
So I'm on the last legs of an annoying cough. I think the cough has been going around. It's the phlegm-y one that makes you cough all night and won't let you sleep. I'm pretty sure I got it after attempting two days straight of working out a couple weeks ago. That's what happens when I try to get healthy. God punishes me.
I figured I needed to start working out again so I chose Runyon Canyon over my gym. My gym is located across town, conveniently located next door to the place I used to work. I understand there are numerous locations in the LA area, but to find the gym closest to me would involve some work. Plus I hate the idea of the gym as a destination in and of itself. And why should I go someplace that takes money directly out of my checking account each month, when I could go somewhere that costs nothing?
In any case, Runyon Canyon is where actors go to show off their abs and precious dogs. Seriously. There are abs and dogs everywhere. In fact, I'm pretty sure I saw a 50 year-old woman with rock-hard abs today. I couldn't be certain of her abs because she was in front of me, jogging. Instead, I noticed her steely ass and huge, fat-free thighs. I'm just assuming she had abs to go along with her other muscles. Don't think I was checking her out. I wasn't. But people in Los Angeles who have sculpted bodies make sure you notice them. They have no concept of the "baggy t-shirt". It's all about lycra. And it's just a matter of time before Nike comes out with lycra pasties. I guarantee there will be a market for them here in Los Angeles.
Me, I'm all about the baggy t-shirt and baggy pants. I never match, and always look as if I've just gotten out of bed. More times than not, I've just gotten out of bed. But Runyon is great because it's a big dog park with steep inclines that will kick your ass. Oops. I mean kick MY ass. Granted, I don't take the easy way up, the mostly-paved loopy loop that takes 20-30 minutes to complete. I take the steeper, longer dirt path. At this level of out-of-shapeness, it takes me a little over an hour. Some of that time I'm standing around letting Bean wear herself out by digging holes. I've done the loop in forty minutes before, but that involved jogging, and I'm not up for that right now.
So I'm on my way back down the hill, just past the house with the horses and goats, when who do I see running at me, uphill, full speed? Ben Stiller. Running. I will say, however, that he did have a shirt on. I would have taken a picture of him with my handy dandy camera phone, but I thought that might be a little tacky, especially since we'll probably have to work together in the future. I really don't want him having that..."Don't I know you from somewhere...?" moment.
Do I have a point to any of this? Not really. I ran into a florist friend of mine towards the bottom of the hill. He was walking his fluffy, huge poodle. As we chatted, people kept passing us, some power-walking, others meandering and a few were jogging. I feel like the people who run uphill are just showing off. It's like they're rubbing our noses in their fitness. Ben Stiller wants me to know that he's more disciplined than me. Guess what, Ben? I can take it. But my florist friend pointed out that Ben probably HAS to run uphill. After all, there's usually one or more shirtless scenes in every film he ever does. It makes sense.
I tried to put it in perspective. If I were a contestant on Tyra Bank's "America's Next Top Model", would I be a walker or a runner? I realized, sadly, I'd probably be a half-assed walker. And that's why you'll never see me compete on "America's Next Top Model."
This has been day 28 of unemployment.
You may think that tomorrow will be day 29 of my unemployment. It will not. I will actually be working...on a show. But that's another blog entry.