Jogging isn’t a euphemism.

Last Sunday, I went jogging for the first time in over a year. As if Mondays weren’t terrible enough, I was incredibly sore. Though I was moving extremely slowly, I got to work on time.

My coworker Charlie walked into the kitchen as I grabbed my coffee cup from the cabinet. He’s in his sixties but wears a Michael Jordan-style earring and a chain. His kids aren’t much older than me, so he’s more informed about music and technology than most of my coworkers.

“Mornin’, Sam!”

“Good morning, Charlie!”

“How was your weekend?”

“Pretty good.”

I waddled to the coffee machine and shifted uncomfortably as my coffee brewed. Charlie gave me a knowing look.

Mm-hm. Seems like it was.”

“I went jogging!”

Sure ya did.”

“My legs are dead because I haven’t gone jogging in a year!”

“I ain’t hatin’.”

“But –”

“At least someone around here is gettin’ some!”

“Jogging isn’t a euphemism for getting laid!”

“No need to be embarrassed! You’ve gotta enjoy your youth!”

“It’s not that, I –”

“Once ya hit menopause, you’ll rarely wanna go jogging with your man!”