Chapter 13.5: Straits -- Exercises, Exercises
The doorbell rang as I was changing into gym shorts and a tee shirt for my morning exercises.
Giselle called out, "I think you should get it, Joe."
Puzzled, I pulled my tee on and carried my gym shoes into the living room.
Julia was waiting at the screen door in exercise gear when I rounded the hall doorway.
"Oh. So that's why you wanted to drive today." I gave her a cheesy grin and went to the door, lifting the screen door latch so she could come in. "You wanted to come early and see what I do for exercise."
"Well, more to join you than to watch." She loosened her shoelaces and left her shoes inside the door as she came in.
I set my shoes by hers. "I could have gone to your house early."
"And exercise with my parents watching? No way. Anyway, not the first time we exercise together. How do you usually start?"
"Warmups and stretches. The carpet in here is easy on the bones, but it's also easy to slip on. The floor in the den is hard, but you don't slide unless you're wearing socks."
"Barefoot it is, then."
We both left our socks with our shoes, saying good morning to my mom on our way through the kitchen to the den.
"You two focus on your exercises and I'll fix breakfast this morning."
Mom must have also been in on the plan.
We faced each other in the middle of the den. "And?" Julia looked at me expectantly.
"Uhm, I usually start with plié to warm up. Other than that, it's pretty random, and I'm open to suggestions."
"From ballet?"
"I learned a little from Louise and Giselle, but it's a hodge-podge mix. I wanted to take a class in modern dance this semester, but they told me I already had more than the usual limit of credit hours."
She laughed. "Like I say, you work too hard."
I had to chuckle.
I stood with my feet and arms in a rough approximation of first and second positions, respectively, and Julia mirrored me.
"One. Two." We did a couple of shallow knee bends. "Three, two, three, four." Once deeper, and back to standing, counting to slow it down. Four, two, three, four." Up to relevé and back. Plie, plié, grand plié, relevé. We repeated four more times.
Julia broke into jumping jacks. "One, two, three, four" I switched and mirrored her. "Two, two, three, four. Three, two, three, four. Four, two, three, four." She stopped. "That's base four, isn't it?"
I stopped and nodded.
"But it ends at four, not three." She wrinkled her forehead.
"Because it starts at one. Using different symbols doesn't really change the ring. It would be more recognizably the symbolic arithmetic base four if we started at zero, of course."
"But no one does that when exercising."
"Most people put math aside when they exercise."
She chuckled. "We've stalled. One-zero --" She started the jumping jacks again. "-- one-one, one-two, one-three."
"Trying to say all that breaks your concentration, doesn't it?" I joined in and we continued through three-three and on.
"One-one-zero, one, two, three. One-two-zero, one, two, three. One-three-zero, one, two three." She shook her head and stopped again. "Can't keep the rhythm going past three-three. Uhm, three-three's fifteen, so we're to 31, right?"
I stopped, too. "Right. And started at zero, so we've done thirty-two. Do it in hex?
"Zero, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, aye, bee, cee, dee, ee, eff."
Somehow, we kept up the exercises and the counting in hexadecimal, in spite of the laughter, up to 100sixteen.
"Exercising with you gets my heart beating."
Julia rolled her eyes and slapped me gently over the head. "That was a lot of jumping jacks. Two fifty-six in base ten, right?"
"Yeah."
"What next?"
"Push-ups to relax?"
"Does not sound relaxing."
"Exercising different muscles."
Julia pursed her lips and got down into position for push-ups, and I followed, and we did seven together.
"My limit," she said.
"Mine, too."
"Don't be nice."
"Seriously. I can't even do more then seven at once from the knees." This was true. I didn't learn how to do push-ups until a modern dance teacher explained visualizing muscle use to the class once. "Sit-ups?"
We matched each other for twenty sit-ups, or 1Asixteen.
"Whew." She sat up. "We should take modern dance together."
I wonder if I'll have time for any summer classes, with the internships."
"We can take it together next fall."
"I thought you were moving on to Texas Christian. Up for a run?"
"Maybe. Mom thinks I should postpone the associate's degree."
"You need to do what you need to do."
She gave me a perplexed look. "That's right. And I think I agree with my mom."
"Oh."
"Where do you usually run?"
"Lots of places. I learned how to pace myself and go for distance on my mission."
"Sounds scary."
"Sometimes I run past your house."
"And you don't stop in?"
"I think I will, next time."
"How long does it take?"
"About fifteen minutes, round trip."
"I think I can handle that. Better stretch first."
We both started doing stretches.
"I guess, if postponing your associate's is what you need to do, I'm not going to complain."
She turned and gave me an air kiss. I grinned and returned it.
"Can you study your Japanese at UTPB?"
"They don't have any courses to take, just like OC. I'd be the teacher."
"I've been thinking about finishing my bachelor's degree at UTPB."
"Me, too. I think I can do the Japanese by correspondence through BYU, if UT doesn't want to help me with it."
Our conversation lagged for a couple of minutes while we focused on the stretches. Then we stood, and she gave me a quick real kiss before we went in to the kitchen to tell my mom where we were going.
"Have fun. Be sure to get back in time to get cleaned up before classes."
We headed out, crossing 42nd at Dixie Boulevard, passing the shopping center on our right on our way to the park, heading east from there past her church, and stopping to surprise her mom at her house. From there we headed back south, crossing 42nd at the Lindale intersection where Lindale turns into 38th Street, then following 38th back home.
We stretched some more and cooled down in the den.
"I think you can borrow the shower on my parents' side of the house to wash off the swe-- uh, glow."
"South side bathroom's ready," my mom informed us from the kitchen.
I rolled my eyes. "Glad somebody here is good at planning."
Julia laughed and leaned over to give me another kiss. "Planning is something I'm good at."
"You're good at many things."
She gave me a smirk.
"Maybe we should agree before the trip to Austin, not to kiss during the trip."
Her smirk changed to a look of hurt, then a pout. Then she sighed. "You're probably right. Are you sure about your temples being hard to elope to?"
"Very hard. We both have to be members in good standing, and there's a year wait for new members."
"A what?"
"Temples are serious business. Promises to God. We want the members to be sure that they are willing to follow through on their promises."
"What are the promises?"
"Can't be specific, but basically to do our best to follow a godly walk and live a Christian life."
"That shouldn't be so hard." But she stopped and thought. "At least, it wouldn't be hard for me."
"The promises are easy to misunderstand without preparation, and the only ones who can really know if you're prepared are God and you, yourself. So I guess it seems better to just have everyone -- all new members -- wait at least a year."
"Hmm. And I'm not really a member of your church yet, anyway. Darn."
I chuckled, and she sighed, then joined me in chuckling.
"I need to ... wash off the glow."
I shook my head. "Anything I say about that, I'm dead in the water."
She laughed.
Mom made sure Julia had what she needed for her shower on the south side of the house, and I took a quick shower in the other bathroom, on Giselle's and my side, and we packed our stuff in her car and headed to school.
[Backed up at https://joel-rees-economics.blogspot.com/2020/07/bk-33209-straits-exercises-exercises.html.]
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