Getting In Shape For The Summer

Life has a pretty insistent way of pointing out all of your personal and physical flaws. My dating life is an excellent example of this. But lately life has delighted in highlighting just how out of shape I’m in.

While I haven’t exactly been in a competitive condition for most of my life, I used to be able to brush my teeth without needing to stop for a breather. Even now as I am writing this, I know that my fingers are going to feel pretty sore in the morning. Maybe I should get some neoprene typing gloves. Do they make those?

I may be having difficulties performing many basic functions, but I seem to have no troubles eating lately. And therein lays the problem. About a week ago, I decided to adopt a new diet program called “Eating Less and Exercising More.” I’ve heard from many reliable sources that this latest craze in fad dieting is definitely the way to go.

Day one of my “Eat Less/Exercise More” diet didn’t go so well. Mostly because I didn’t exercise at all and I ate about 39 cookies with a bowl of potato salad. The program kind of went downhill from there. I think the only way to get out of shape even faster would be to directly inject the fat and cholesterol into my veins.

At first I resigned myself to the fact that I might not have a 6 pack by July. I can live with never taking my shirt off again. I just needed to pick a shirt I liked and go with that. But then I was invited to play ultimate Frisbee. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the sport, it is basically like playing catch with a Frisbee but for crazy people. My team was running up and down the field as if their clothing were on fire… just for fun!

I might be lazy, but I’m also competitive which means that I didn’t really pay attention to the warning signals that my body was sending trying to convey the message that it was ready to go home and take a nap. The warning signals started off subtle enough with a general feeling as though I were about to projectile vomit. But it quickly escalated to the point where several vessels burst and every hair in my body fell out due to a sudden spike in blood pressure.
Mercifully the game ended when several players got bored with running back and forth on a field and decided to go run in circles on a track. I just asked somebody to drop me off at the morgue.

While lying on the cold marble slab I had an epiphany. I realized that self-discipline and hard work are not the way to go. “What led you to that conclusion?” Good question, and as usual the answer is Hollywood. In examining this summer’s biggest blockbusters I’ve noticed that at least 4 of them are superhero movies with names like “Iron Man” and “The Hulk.” I want nicknames like that. I want to be that hero.

So how did these amazing men of steel acquire their glow-in-the-dark, impervious to fire, and levitating bodies? Some such as Iron Man and Batman purchased them. But since I previously spent all my money this summer on movies and a subscription to Doritos, I decided to go with the other route; radiation.

That’s where my friend Talon Bradford comes in. Talon was recently diagnosed with Grave’s disease, which basically results in a hyper-active thyroid, the thyroid of a four-year-old raised on pixie sticks. The particular treatment that Talon has opted for is called radio-iodine. In other words, radioactive iodine. This little pill makes his body so radioactive that he is forbidden from leaving the house for several days, coming in contact with other people and after a week or so, if he should choose to travel he will need a special card to notify the authorities that the reason he is setting off the bomb detectors at the airport is because he is diseased and not idealistic.

Naturally sitting in your room all by yourself can get pretty boring. That’s why I will volunteer myself to come over and play video games with Talon and to give him several hugs of encouragement and healing. If that isn’t enough for me to cast aside my glasses and fly off into the sunset, then I am willing to go so far as to let him bite me. Unfortunately due to the fact that he was recently married, his new wife won’t let him bite people anymore.

So, once again, my best plans are thwarted by a jealous woman. But that’s probably for the best. I’m not very likely to use my powers for good instead of evil. So until a mysterious rock from space come crashing through my window and tightens up my gluteus, I guess I could just take the batman approach and wear more flattering clothes. Of course maybe that's why he's entirely in neoprene, because batman's in worse shape than I am in. What a slacker.