I was in this exercise class yesterday, and we were all standing there holding a three-pound dumbbell in each hand. We had to hold them fully-stretched out in front of us.
For the first two minutes, it was a big nothing. So what.
Then with each passing 15 seconds, those little dumbbells started to feel like I was holding bowling balls in my hand.
I didn’t help that I was standing next to this about 115-year-old guy who didn’t seem to have any problem holding ‘em out there. The more he could see I was about to pass out, the bigger his smirky grin got.
To get my mind off thinking about him and how I was a human Gumby, I started thinking about my days as an altar boy back at St. Francis Xavier parish in Chicago.
I was really proud of my school record (it may still be the record today) of doing three zillion 6:15 AM masses in a row -- from about second grade until I had a bountiful garden of zits on my forehead.
My dad would go to a lot of my masses and sit out there in the first pew and giv…
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to "Jimmy Dunne Says" to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.