So, David and I joined a gym on Saturday. We’re avid runners, but we’ve finally determined that no, we will not (and cannot) run throughout the blustery winter here in the Burgh.

We purveyed a few local gyms, but they were all out of our price range ($200 per month? are you serious?). Then we came across “Club Julian.” Their prices were much more reasonable, and as proclaimed by our tour guide (and one enthusiastic and well-placed member), it’s so, so clean!

Great! But one sacrifice had to be made…the average age of the Club Julian member has to be 55. That said, the music played is old and old men lurk in every corner. Ha! OK, perhaps they don’t lurk, but you know what I mean.

David and I talked it over and decided that the music didn’t bug us all that much (I just listen to my iPod, and David just tunes everything out), and hey, we’ll feel like real stallions compared to the other patrons. Ego boost anyone?

So, we’re sweating to the oldies and with the oldies and loving it!