A Sunday afternoon in Oslo, Frogner edition

I've been feeling kind of punk the past few days. I have a tooth that is going to need a root canal for which I have an appointment on Monday (its second, apparently root canals don't always take?) and I have this cough that feels like something is trying to bubble up but won't quite happen. Like I am on the verge of a cold or bronchitis or something, but not yet. It's really annoying, I just feel sort of low level blah, but not enough to just stay home and sleep. I haven't been sick in a long time, so maybe it's my turn, but my body just won't let it happen all the way, and the fight is taking it out of me.

Needless to say, my energy levels are not that great. Even so, after a day yesterday where I literally did not lift myself from a horizontal position except to pee and make dinner, I forced myself to go out today, to go to the gym, to be out in life, and to get out of the flat, if even for a little while. I needed to feel the crisp air and kick a few golden Fall leaves about.

A lucky thing about my general disposition is that, even if I feel down, or punk, or listless, there are always things that make me smile. To whit, today:

1) En route to the gym, which is about a kilometer away and a pleasant walk, a guy turned the corner in front of me with two basset hounds on leads. Basset hounds always make me smile, and these were such excellent specimens of the breed. Low to the ground, but massive, they probably each weighed a good 70 lbs, like walking cement blocks with little bitty vestigal legs and big floppy saggy ears. If one of those were to run into you, you would be knee-capped and taken down in an instant, that powerful low center of gravity would brook no opposition. One was a boy (I was behind them, yep, he was a boy) and one was a female, and they waddled and galumphed and swayed ahead of me. Each step they took, their entire flesh and skin would sway one way, and then in the next step would flop back to catch up with the bits that had just gone the other way, it made them look like nothing more than swinging waves of dog, their tails gay and upright and tick-tocking trying to keep up with their wiggling butts. That made me smile.

2) My time at the gym was spent just doing whatever the hell I felt like, because, I don't want to push it and my lungs just feel a bit wierd. No aerobics today. For some reason I have VERY strong abs, like crazy strong, and was on that chair where you do sort of backwards sit ups, you bend face down over the chair that supports you at your hips, brace your feet at your achilles heels and then pull up using your lower back muscles and abs. Anyhow, this muscle bound guy was next to me on the same sort of chair, doing the same exercise. He was using a 5 kilo weight to add extra oomph and I was using a 10 kilo one. Obviously a girl couldn't do a heavier weight than him because when he saw me using the 10 kilo one he hastily changed for the 10 kilo one, and I think he was surprised at how hard it was. He tried to out do me, but couldn't manage it, I did my reps and he valiantly tried to outdo me but couldn't. (I don't know why my abs are so strong, but they are. Genetic, my mom has it too.) hehe. I enjoyed that. Didn't even break a sweat.

3) The leg press machine at the gym is facing a low wall, and just above the wall is the free weight area, with a glass surround. I enjoy doing the leg press machine because the eye candy from that lower angle, looking up just slightly above my head, is magnificent. You really can't look anywhere else and all you see are hot guys doing arm weight thingies, and shoulder thingies, and then if you are lucky, squats, (and always with their back to you) and you are sort of under the action with a, well, a basset hound's perspective...low and up. Oh man do I get pervy on that leg press machine. There are some damn fine specimens of boy up there, and somehow that angle....rrr. My legs are always very sore after a leg press session because I stay there just a little too long watching the boys. I often wonder if men have any idea that women are just as pervy, possibly more so, than they are? (Or is that just me?)

4) Coming back from the gym, feeling a bit more invigorated after my perving, walking up the slight incline of the road, an older gentleman came down the street to my right on one of those kid scooters, the one-legged ones with the handle to hold on to? Oh he was SO dapper, a checked tweed jacket, a pressed blue shirt over another shirt and with an ascot, for Christ's sake, as well. Khaki trousers, brown loafers, his hair just so, and freewheeling down the road on that scooter. He must've been at least 70, and if he wasn't the spitting image of how I envision getting older, I don't know what is. I want to be 70 and hurtling down the road, nattily dressed, wind in my hair, riding a scooter and not caring at all what the world may think. He was the best thing I'd seen in ages. He smiled and waved as he turned the corner to go down the hill I was coming up. What fun.