The 21-day Sex Challenge

As I've alluded to elsewhere no doubt, I was gone this past weekend to Tahoe with a gaggle of women.  We were nine, in total -- 3 are close friends of mine, 2 I'd met before and really liked, and 3 were brand-new.  Seven live in Mill Valley and have school-age children.  Two of us live in San Rafael and Novato and have grown children -- 24 and 18.  There's enough variety and spark in the group to keep every conversation rolling along brightly, although if I'm being honest I generally spend these types of gatherings feeling like the odd-one out among the beautiful people, the token ugly person, the least snugly-fitted to the rest of the crew.  I'm the one who's yawning at 9pm and wishing for bed, while everyone is pouring another glass of wine and tucking in for the long haul.

I love this difference.  I have fun and also simultaneously dream myself somewhere else, wishing I were Hermione with that time-turner gadget, so I could be laughing my ass off here *and* reading a book in another dimension.  And then my head rejoins my body sitting on a couch or dancing to the Wii, and everything's fine.

But honestly I do spend a fair amount of time looking around and thinking or saying, "wow." Wow as in, "This is not my beautiful wife."

Because I have my reporter-self on -- my coping skill for new situations or those in which I'm meeting new people -- I spend a lot of time listening to the stories being told, absorbing the details, turning them over and over in my head.  

And calling for a show of hands.  Some subject came up, some subject to do with sex, and I was so surprised at the nods of assent around the room that I had to say, wait, can I see a show of hands?  Who else has this fantasy?  Again, wow, that particular notion never, ever occurred to me.  I do feel like I'm constantly learning on these particular weekends, up close and personal with new friends whose lives and tastes are different from mine.  So interesting.  And I think so essential: so healthy to be around difference.  It so makes me think.

Somehow, the group created a list of commitments to which we are all apparently bound, a number of challenges:

- 100 crunches every day for 30 days, and 

- 21 consecutive days of sex

I was in another room when these plans were hatched.  Heather, Marianne and I rejoined the group from a conversation in the kitchen, and the resolutions were ready-made.  Apparently, it takes 21 days to form a new habit, hence the 21 days of sex.  I remember myself asking, but wait, what habit are we forming with 21 consecutive days of sex?  Just more sex?  More and different came the response.  This resolution would force change, creativity, spice things up.

Oh.

Let me be honest.  I have nothing against crunches, except perhaps this herniated disc in my back.  And yes, I know I can do them standing up.  I'm working on it.  But 21 days of sex?  Um, why?   Again, my back interferes, but still, why?

Maybe there's something wrong with me.  But an informal poll of men conducted by my husband over drinks last night at the Silver Peso garnered the same response.  Universally, they said No to this offer, using words I would use, actually: no way, I have too much shit to do, I don't have time for that.  One even said, reportedly, once every 21 days would be fine, thanks. Granted, these are all men my age and perhaps our age is showing in this instance.  But at least I feel less like an oddball.

The thing is that I don't care what other people do.  Wait, scratch that: I do care, in that I'm profoundly interested in what makes people tick.  I care about what they care about, which is not the same as caring about the same things.  So I don't mind the email reports of "18 days to go!", even though I can't reciprocate.  I hesitate to say I'm not participating, in case it means I'm no fun and won't be invited back.  I don't think that will really happen -- I did try to be a good guest, consistent with my personal rule of "Always be invited back." And I brought really good coffee.  

Fortunately, I have company on my 21 days of not participating.  Yes, even though some people's partners have jumped at this chance, uh, my spouse and I are in agreement.  In our cozy dotage, we're fine skipping that challenge.

But crunches?  We're on it. 

Comments

[TD]

Number of days I've done crunches this week: 4
Number of days of sex: 0. We're just too damned tired.