Meet Elvis.

See these people? These sweaty, wonderful, generous people?


This is my GRIT team. My gym family. The people who put up with my truly juvenile humor, my aging and creaky bones, and my often tenuous grasp on choreography. The people who show up, day after day, willing to get breathless and battered. It takes a delicious sort of craziness to do what they do.

The fact that these people give 100% in the gym isn’t the point. They are all overly generous in every aspect of their lives. They look out for one another: babysitting, family needs, shoulders to cry on (and professional veterinary advice) when your cat is sick. That’s what kicks me in the gut. They’re this good all the time. And when people this good not only tolerate me but also are unabashedly wonderful to me, I  think maybe I don’t suck as a human being quite as much as I’ve convinced myself I do.

Thanks to this magnanimously zany group, I have a new mixer: a sexy stainless KitchenAid* to replace my 28-year old model that has served me well but certainly deserves retirement at this point. I won’t go in to how I turned into a gloopy puddle of mush upon receipt of this glorious machine, but know this: the white-knuckled relationship my middle-aged face has with gravity lately? Gravity totally won.

(*As if the KA didn’t blow me away enough, said mixer had in its company lots of gift cards for food and drinks at delightful places. Oberlin, watch out.)

#mixerselfies Thank you, Melissa Rector, for snapping these!

#mixerselfies Thank you, Melissa Rector, for snapping these!

Last Saturday, we held a naming ceremony for this intoxicating device with a small party at the house. We cast votes based on the four sexiest beings (real and fictional) I know.



The winner, by a wafer-thin margin:



World: Meet Elvis. Like his namesake, whose intricate and arcane lyrics have challenged me emotionally and intellectually, I feel certain that this Elvis will enhance my culinary acumen (or at least my aspirations) beyond belief.


To my dear gym family, my draw to Elvis has always been his cynicism, bitterness, and extensive vocabulary (traits I try to embody myself!!), but for you, I dedicate this sweet and hopeful song, not written by Elvis, but brilliantly performed by him. Elvis could find the peace, love, and understanding he’s looking for in our sweaty little rooms!


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