Sweating.
It feels good. Sometimes.
Lately, I’ve been doing a lot of it.
Not the gross, smelly nervous sweat you get before a big presentation. Not the hot, sticky sweat you get lying out in the sun.
The sweat you get from moving around. Running around. Jumping around.
On Saturday, I spent the evening playing trampoline dodgeball. It’s dodgeball. On a trampoline.
What even?
I thought I was pretty slick diving around and bouncing off elastic walls.
I’m sure I wasn’t.
Somehow, the next morning, I ran the Winnipeg Fire Paramedic Service 10k run. Yeah, yeah, it’s not that long. But it was pretty big for me so can it.
Again, I probably didn’t look too slick.
I definitely didn’t feel too slick.
The best part about sweating, the kind you get from jumping around, is not feeling bad about adding bacon.
When the burly man behind the counter at Grace Cafe asked if I wanted bacon on my grilled cheese, I didn’t hesitate.
“Fuck yes.”
Here’s what I had at Grace Cafe:
Grilled Cheese (with bacon): Rye bread, marble cheese, bacon. ~$6.00
Impression: Crispy and buttery, like a grilled cheese should be. The bacon was thick and smokey. The burly man behind the counter handled the classic sandwich with skill. Thanks, Burly
What made it? Bacon. Whether you played trampoline dodgeball or ran a race or sat on your ass, it doesn’t matter.
Go for the bacon.
Life is better when you go for the bacon.
Power Goes Out (to eat) 