When you’re half a century old, it’s easy to get out of shape. Especially in the years subsequent to mankind’s discovery of my beloved Utz Special Dark pretzels and other, lesser snack-related products.
As the sun warms our days, many of us will be taking stock of how many pounds of blubber we’ve packed onto our atrophied exoskeletons since the last time it wasn’t freezing out.
The shocking answer — frequently in the double digits, accompanied by horrified facial expressions and high-pitched outbursts of remorse — is often a powerful enough trauma to force many of us straight into ice cream therapy.
Fortunately, for truly dysfunctional individuals, self-disgust can also be employed as a motivational tool, even by an unmotivated tool. So I wanted to do something healthy. But what?
As a longtime admirer of the humble sloth, it can be difficult for me to keep up with all the latest fitness trends and crazes. For example, I hear human cannonball is excellent for the abs and core but …
And then there’s all the latest yogas — Siberian sub-zero yoga, blindfolded yoga, Insanity PX-90 Power Yoga.
I wanted something familiar, but minimal research revealed that jumping jacks are no longer America’s No. 1 exercise.
I tried hiring a personal trainer, but became fatigued when Magnus had me pushing those gigantic tractor tires to the top of Mount Agamenticus.
Couldn’t help notice a lot of people out jogging yesterday. And this might seem like a perfectly reasonable activity to reinvigorate the body — one’s heart, lungs, muscles and, of course, the pancreas — after a long winter of sedentary behavior.
But I cannot recommend jogging for at least 32 reasons. Here are three: You could get run over by a vehicle and become partially or even fully paralyzed, you could be accidentally trampled by fellow runners, and you could definitely pull a hammy.
Nowadays, many nutritional experts recommend baby steps. So crawling is good. Also sobbing uncontrollably. Then, finally, reducing the quantity of food you eat to roughly the same portion consumed by a baby.
Actually, these so-called “experts” claim the only healthy way to dump excess flab is through some pain-in-the-neck combination of diet and exercise.
That’s right, they’d have you believe you must limit the amount of crap (the official nutritional term is “junk”) that you cram into your piehole and ALSO find it within your lethargic soul to engage in some annoying regimen of actual physical activity.
Well, fortunately there are plenty of crackpot alternatives. For example, many people find they just don’t have much of an appetite for exercise. For these torpid lard-cans, the answer is simple: Hire an exorcist.
A competent exorcist can be found in the Yellow Pages (under “Satanic consultants”). For a reasonable fee, the exorcist will summon the powers of the underworld to literally “burn those extra pounds away.” And, you can eat as much charred flesh of cloven-hoofed animals as you desire.
There are also surgical options to consider, though it is important to warn you that liposuction is for suckers and gastric bypass is passé.
Instead, try this revolutionary new method described in the April edition of the prestigious Imaginary Journal of Medicine.
It’s called a Staple-Gunectomy. Simply press the loaded staple gun against your abdomen, fix your face in a determined grimace, and fire away. Five or six staples will usually do the trick.
Of course, there are many other valid approaches to “slashing the old spare tire.” Other new fad diets include:
South Pole Beach Diet: Simply go to the South Pole (be sure to pack a warm parka, some mittens and a 14-inch, whale-flaying knife). Upon arrival, set up your insulated tent on the beach at Point Barrow and just shiver those calories away. Every two months, hunt and kill a small baleen whale. Enjoy.
Broken Jaw Diet: Simply suffer a broken jaw and enlist a qualified physician to wire your mandible shut. Then utilize an ordinary household straw to consume your meals. Repeat as necessary.
— John Breneman