Tuesday, January 08, 2008


One of my silent resolutions this year is to get back to the gym. It's been a few months since I've gone on a routine basis &, hey, I'm paying for it whether I go or not, so...

Anyway, one of the reasons that I've slacked off on going (besides my inherent laziness & aversion to undue pain) is that I felt like I'd been spinning my wheels as far as working out went. I started out trying almost every torture implement exercise machine in the place, tried out the free weights & then just settled on the treadmill & the stationary bike. I didn't know the proper way to use the machines &, regardless of how strenuous I thought the workout was, I never felt like I was accomplishing anything. Well, other than scarring my psyche by seeing Ol' Man Dangly Bits au natural in the locker room.


So, I decided to take the gym up on their offer to sit down & talk to one of the trainers & set up a routine that might actually produce some results. It was here that I was introduced to Cameron, a hyperkinetic individual who really, really likes to talk about working out & eating right (I know this because he told me so). Imagine, if you will, a terrible accident in a cloning lab that inadvertently combined the DNA of Ty Pennington & Ryan Reynolds & you’d have Cameron.

So, after talking about what I was looking to achieve & what I’d been doing up to now, Cameron gave me the following workout routine, which I started tonight:

• Lunges – 5 each leg
• Chest press – 8-12 repetitions (or ‘reps’, as all the cool kids are calling it these days)
• Pulldown – 8-12 reps (check me out! I’m hip, yo!)
• Upper back – 8-12 reps
• Leg press – 8-12 reps
• Ab curl – 8-12 reps

“Do this for six weeks,” he said, “& you’ll be a machine!”

Yep, you read that right – a machine, baby! I can see it now:

Women will swoon & want me, but, alas, can never have me. Unable to get my machine-esque figure out of their heads, they will all shave their heads & become lesbians or join a convent.

Men will be jealous of my machine-like physique, but, alas, will leave the gym, despondent, once the realization sets in that they can try all want, but will never achieve my level of machineinessosity & will have no alternative but to cry like girlie-men into a carton of Ben & Jerry’s.

Children will speak in hushed tones as they pass my home.

The Boy’s friends will think he’s the coolest kid at school, simply because of my machine-like awesomeness.

Animals will burst into song at the mere mention of my name & will create clothing for me out of the finest linens, gold thread & blue bird slobber.

World leaders will ask my advice on foreign policy & whether or not Canada should just give up the façade & become the 51st state, North North Dakota.

Tom will beg me to be his friend on MySchpace.

Dave Coulier will return my calls.

Yes, Loyal Readers, all of these things will come to pass…

…just as soon as the spasms in my arms stop, I cease dry heaving & I can get up off the floor without assistance.