The Spirit Committee strikes back

As we mentioned last time, the Spirit Committee at work has launched two new initiatives. The first is a walking group, which meets once a week at lunchtime to walk the city streets and get some exercise, stop at Whole Foods for some quick shopping, stop at an ice cream truck for "research," etc. (This last is purely my own personal agenda for the walking group, as I am highly into "research.")


The walking group is of course entirely voluntary, unless the Spirit Committee -- which, as we shall see, wields a lot of power -- decides that the staff, at sanctioned staff parties, is collectively consuming too many Things That Taste Really, Really Good But Are Terribly, Horribly Bad for You. At that point -- well, forced lunchtime marches may not be entirely too far-fetched.


The first group that gathered to walk was enthusiastic, if not large in number. We began the first day's walk with a sensible warm-up: taking the elevator to the lobby. No sense in winding ourselves before even starting, we reasoned. The six of us soon found ourselves dividing into smaller groups based on preferred walking pace. There were the fast walkers, and the medium-speed walkers. And then there was my group, the taxi-hailers.


The second time we met, the walking group was going strong -- all three of us. When questioned about skipping the walk, the others gave some meager excuse about "having to work." No doubt this work involved "research." 


This time we walked several blocks to Whole Foods. In keeping with the principles befitting an exercise group such as ours, we spent approximately 10 minutes walking, 15 minutes in the store, and 3 hours waiting for traffic lights to change. We were assured that the trip back would not seem as long as the trip there, and indeed this was true. We spent only 2 hours 45 minutes waiting for traffic lights on the way back.


But after this dismal showing of interest in fresh air and exercise, and several more birthday and goodbye parties at work with more cake than ever, the Spirit Committee launched a full-scale attack on our gluttony. Not a forced health march, but worse: a staff potluck consisting of...salad.


Looking at the sign-up sheet, you would be hard-pressed to find anything containing any of that Terribly Horribly Bad Stuff for you, and some would argue that you would be hard-pressed to find anything that might be mistaken for actual food. Interest in the salad potluck so far is tepid, but we shall see. Should the Committee attempt to impose a rule that from henceforth all birthday and goodbye parties will serve only salad, there will no doubt be an uprising. If we can get off our exercise-deprived keisters to stage it.