It's 11:30AM, I'm at work with a lull in office activity at the moment. The sun is shining, the temperature is oh so pleasant, and my mind is toying with my body.
"What do you say we get out during our lunch break and do a 3-mile run?" my mind gingerly asks.
"Just a minute. Let me look at those flags across the parking lot," my body responds.
"Yeah, take a look and get back to me," my mind says.
"Shoot. They're flipping 'n flapping pretty darn hard. It doesn't look like a perfect day for running to me," my body says.
"If we wait for perfect days, we'll be waiting forever. Come on. Be a sport. Please," my mind pleads.
"You're ruthless. Whatever you say always rules so I might as well not argue with you," my body grumbles.
"I promise that after the triathlon this year, I'll go easy on you from then on. I'll make sure you enjoy our workouts from then on. OK?" my mind says.
"I'll have to see it to believe it. Alright. I admit it'll will feel extra good lying on the couch tonight watching American Idol," my body says.
"Oh, yeah. When Lon dishes up the ice cream and raspberries you won't have a single reason to feel guilty. It'll be calories that you need, calories you can savor and swallow with total justification for every single spoonful," my mind says.
"You're a devil, do you know that? YOU WIN AGAIN. Take me then, I'm all yours," my body says.
"You know I'll never leave you or forsake you," my mind says.
"How about some good news?" my body retorts.
And so it goes.