So there I was, sitting on top of my one-night-stand, doing jumping squats and panting—my thighs kept giving way. As I wiped a bead of sweet sweat off my right eyebrow, I resolved to do more squats at the gym tomorrow. It served me right, I mused, for trying to sleep with a 25-year-old marathon runner—ten years younger and 20 kilometers fitter than me.
My little paunch seemed to agree as it wobbled up and down as I straddled him. Completely out of breathe, I smiled and stretched my head backward. That helped flatten out my stomach. To own this moment, I needed a new move—an age-defying stunt.
My little paunch seemed to agree as it wobbled up and down as I straddled him. Completely out of breathe, I smiled and stretched my head backward. That helped flatten out my stomach. To own this moment, I needed a new move—an age-defying stunt.
