I was having trouble sleeping a few nights ago, turned on the TV, saw an infomercial for some kind of abdominal strengthening machine, changed channels, and was met by a man and woman, side by-side on something called a Gazelle Glider. I flicked through a few more channels; each with either, a new and miraculous diet, a machine that will give you a hot and sexy, beach body in mere weeks, a device to produce washboard abs in minutes a day, and a Zumba dance routine, based on Latin dancing styles, and guaranteed to melt away stubborn fat while having fun. I finally found a rerun of “Full House,” grabbed a diet soda, a generous piece of ring bologna, and a big chunk of swiss cheese from the fridge, and settled down for a quick snack.
The sad thing is that over the years, I’ve bought and tried almost every exercise device that was ever invented, with the sole purpose of sculpting my body into that of a classic and formidable “Geek” god. Oh, no. I think it’s supposed to be a “Greek god.” I guess that answers a few questions of why I haven’t lost weight, have unacceptable levels of body fat, can’t walk up a flight of steps without being winded, and have what’s known at my local drinking establishment, as washing machine abs.
If you looked in my garage now, you would see unused, out-of-date elliptical machines, stationary bikes, treadmills, and some cobweb covered equipment, that I still haven’t figured out how to use. I even have something in there called an “Ab support exercise mat.” It’s pretty impressive, with its optional tailbone protector, for eliminating buttock chafing, sturdy and comfortable head and back support, and soft exterior. I took naps on the thing for three months, before I realized it’s supposed to be used with hand weights, and other exercise equipment. To be honest; my once clean and organized garage, looks like the rusty, abandoned graveyard, of a middle-aged man’s fitness hopes and dreams.
I know I should exercise more, but sometimes wonder; what’s the point. I figure, if I get too out of shape, there’s always the “Scooter Store.” I often say, “If God wanted us to exercise, there wouldn’t be comfortable recliners, TV remotes, chips, beer, and NFL Football.” Thousands of years ago, we had to exercise. To survive a harsh and brutal environment, we needed to spend countless hours, meticulously gathering food or chasing down our next meal. Today, all we need to do is pick up the phone – and Papa John’s in the house!
Did you ever wonder if, exercise is really required to ensure a longer life expectancy? I know a guy who’s in his late 80’s, smokes two packs of cigarettes a day, lives on his couch, eats whatever he wants, and often prays for death; yet the Grim Reaper stopped by yesterday and said, “No Roy, it’s not your time. I’m here to get that twenty something male model next door. He’s ready to have a heart attack, from entertaining that troupe of fourteen Romanian gymnasts. While I’m here, can I have a hit off your hand rolled cigarette? You can’t get smokes like this down there. I guess, that’s why they call it Hell. Thanks. See you in another twenty years.”
A few years ago, after much debate, and gentle coaxing from my wife, I visited a local gym to possibly join. Besides, I couldn’t fit anymore unique workout equipment in my garage. Do you know that some exercise facilities aren’t called gyms anymore? They now call themselves “Health Clubs,” they’re extremely expensive, and in some cases, may limit the number and types of people who can become members. The one I entered, had an enormous man in a dress shirt, and tie, at the front desk, who looked like a Maître De on steroids. Before I could say a word; he meticulously scanned me from head to toe, paused for a moment, and then said, “I’m sorry sir, but you can’t join our club?
“Why is that?” I asked. He replied, “Well, for one thing – take a look in a mirror.”
I eventually found a more suitable venue, that met my unique exercise needs. I hadn’t been in a gym in a while, and many things had changed. On my first visit, I approached a weight rack, and couldn’t find any of those five and ten-pound weights, I used to effortlessly heft. All the hand weights I saw, started at twenty-five pounds. I even struggled trying to lift a darn metal bar, and nearly pulled a back muscle. Luckily, a nice woman offered to help. I was very grateful, and said, “Oh, thanks miss. Wow, you’re really strong! Hey, would you like to come over to my house on Saturday? My wife will cook us up about twenty pounds of muscle-building protein. If you don’t mind, while you’re there; could you help me move a piano, and maybe take care of a big, neighborhood bully, who’s been giving me trouble.”
Before I move on; here’s a few more observations, and things I learned about exercising. Did you know that cross-training doesn’t involve visiting your local church, and helping the priest move impossibly heavy crucifixes? I didn’t. I also learned, I may not need to exercise at all. Do you know the human body burns calories when sleeping, through normal respiration, brain activity, and blood flow? This week I started sleeping twenty-three hours a day. The sleeping parts okay, but do you now, how difficult it is to eat four thousand calories in an hour.
I guess, I’ll have to rely on my latest venture, to help me look like one of those magnificent statues from ancient Greek history. It may sound strange, but grizzly bear racing is a sure-fire way to burn enormous calories, in a very short period of time. I heard the racing part isn’t too bad, but getting the saddle on them, can be quite challenging.