torture is:

i don't know what's worse:

coming home too late to run outside...

on the first day of decent, non-suicidal, self inflicting pain weather...

working out in the HOA "gym" instead...

too intimidated... or repulsed, maybe... to run next to the tool in the cut off sleeves on the treadmill...

while he runs the most manic interval training program on the face of the planet...

while he hogs the remote control and remains keeper of the tv entertainment...

watching sports center...

BASEBALL edition...

on SILENT...

event though he's listening to his ipod...

nickleback, no doubt...
while an incoming stream of text messages from friends and clients came pouring in about the latest haps on the bachelor pad...
DIDN'T HE KNOW MONDAY NIGHT WAS BACHELOR PAD NIGHT?...

or

the burning numbness of the bottom of my feet after booking it on the ellipticals for a half hour.

oh.my.gosh.

the paaaaaaiiiiiiin.

it's inhumane.