Life is funny

Almost three years ago, I took a three-week trip to Australia and New Zealand—a brilliant adventure. After being charmed by Sydney’s food, shopping, architecture, climate and people, I went to New Zealand’s South Island for hiking, biking, wine tasting and general exploring. One night, I found myself in a very simple cabin, trying to fall asleep in the bottom bunk while two elderly Japanese women quietly talked across our shared bedroom. I was on an organized three-day trek through the mountains, and it struck me at that moment that nobody in the world could possibly imagine where I was. That I was sharing a room with strangers who spoke another language, after having hiked through snow and sun for eight hours, and that we would all rise on this mountainside in the morning and to it again, together. It was absurd but brilliant. It made me smile in the dark.

I had sort of the same feeling this morning. I tried a cardio class at my gym, and there were just two of us, plus the instructor. It struck me as so funny and bizarre that the three of us were hopping around, doing 80s aerobics to 90s hip-hop. That I came all the way from New York and found myself in this wonderful little time warp. Fantastic!

Luckily, the class was relatively mild and only 40 minutes long. I felt like I had cinder blocks attached to my thighs and have a feeling I’ll be immobile by 8 p.m.