McCraquette ball

I've been Googling and reading the rules of racquetball.

I think it's important that Bill, Margaret and I actually know something about this game because what we did at the racquetball court last night bore no resemblance to any organized game. Instead, it looked more like a 3-D version of the old video game, Super Breakout.

But we did have fun. The three of us ran around smacking the ball as much as we possibly could. We cheered each other on and I only yelled at Bill a couple of times for trying to detach our retinas.

And it was way better than doing what Margaret wanted to do.

She wanted us to move ourselves around the jogging track ... by jogging.

Jogging is not something that I aspire to do.

I should point out that I'd like to have the aerobic capacity to be able to run for some respectable amount time ... you know, in case I was being chased by some horrible monster or if the ice cream truck was getting away. But I don't really want to be running just for the sake of running.

There's a kajillion things I'd much rather be doing. Number one on that list is lying down ... in my bed ... watching HBO (we only get HBO free for one more month, so I'm trying to get my money's worth — OK, since I'm not paying for it, I'm not actually getting my "money's worth," but I don't want it to go unwatched. Plus have you seen that series "Big Love"? Because holy macarolli, that's a crazy show. )

Really that is the problem that led us to sign up for a membership to the Mesa State rec center — I've been lying down way too much. It's all I want to do.

Bill and I have had gym memberships before and, honestly, I really liked going to the gym. But I felt too guilty being out of the house so many evenings during the week.

Now Bill and I can take Margaret with us to play racquetball (assuming that we actually learn the game. In the meantime, we'll continue playing McCraquette ball with exuberance), swim or even — gag — jog on the inside track.

I shouldn't really make it sound so bad, 10 years ago while pregnant with Margaret, I was a full-time employee of Mesa State College. My assistant and I would use the gym several days a week.

She'd use the machines while I'd walk on the treadmill. Then we'd walk as fast as we could around the then-much-shorter inside track (believe me, having access to an inside track during the middle of summer here while pregnant was essential) for three or four miles.

And I really enjoyed it. I'd like to think that all that exercise was the reason I had such a quick labor and delivery. Who knows?

So now, while I have no intention of bulking up to my pre-birth weight, I would like to achieve my pre-birth aerobic capacity ... you know, in case the ice cream man tries to deny me an ice-cream sandwich.