Dating 'taken' people and coveting someone else's boxing gloves

We discuss interesting, important and sometimes completely irrelevant things in our office. We're expensively educated young adults. It's what we do best (the irrelevant part, that is).

Today's panel topic was dating/hitting on married people. Or people who wear fake rings to avoid being hit on. Or dating someone who dumped/is dumping their current wife/girlfried/toe-warmer for the oh-so-much-better YOU. Or people who don't bother looking for a ring. Or people who ONLY hit on married/seemingly married people. It takes all kinds.

I told you it was important.

"Why would you date someone who dumped someone else for you?" I asked. "Seriously. You know it's a matter of time 'til you're out in the cold."

I was right, of course, and was greeted with a roomful of nodding heads - bobbleheads, the Boomerang edition.

Seriously. When self-esteem seems to be at an all-time low anyway, why would you set the egg timer on yours? Ding! Time's up! Refill your antidepressant and get your therapist on speed dial.

In other news, I went running last night. At least, I told myself it was running. It probably looked more like a painful, 27-minute lurch, but really, it was running.

I hadn't been running since Thanksgiving weekend, and all things considered, I'm dang proud of myself. I maintained 9-minute laps throughout (that's, um ... that's really good. For me. Spare me your judgment and derisive snickering). For a two-month break, that's phenomenal. I also discovered that the key to avoiding middle-of-the-night-running hypothermia is to continue running, and to not walk two laps afterward. Some lessons are just learned the hard way, and my hands have just now thawed out to the point where I can a) do my job and b) type this rambling epistle to you all.

In other, other news, I despise squatting/jumping/squatting/dying across the gym while clutching a medicine ball as though the extra weight was going to do me a favor. Jason, if you ever read this, that may be the exercise I despise the most. It definitely beats partner leg-overs in my most-hated column of exercises. And you made us do two rounds of it. I came close to chucking my medicine ball on you while you did stomach crunches next to us. I just didn't have the strength left to chuck anything at anyone when it came down to it.

Kim is rockin' some fantastic new purple gloves, and I'm completely envious. However, with my pink gloves and purple shirt and her purple gloves and pink-and-black shirt, we were the most color-coordinated pair throwing mits tonight. Girls totally rock this boxing/MMA stuff. According to Annie, we rock ab work, too. ("Those guys just totally wimp out halfway through the (leg lifts) round, Sarah. And you were still going ...") We totally rock.