Ask the Readers resumes next week. Today, I must update you on my fitness goals. I even included a titillating video. Here’s a juicy pic to warm you up (or more likely, click away forever):
In hindsight, offering to give one of you $100 if I couldn’t do 10 pull-ups or get my weight under 160 by the end of September was a bad, bad idea. Kind of like the time I went to Taco Bell at 1:30 am after a healthy visit to the Great American Beer Festival. And by healthy, I mean that I drank unhealthy quantities of beer. I know, that doesn’t make sense. Probably because I just consumed some beer.
The next day was unpleasant. And by unpleasant, I mean completely shitty. Literally.
The Dhiarrito, Goo-dita, Big Beefy Super Cheesy Extra Greasy Stuft Crunch Wrap and a gallon of beer played an 8 hour-long rugby match in my lower GI tract. Most of the day was spent on the porcelain throne:
- Mrs. 1500: What the hell is going on in there? You’ve been in the bathroom for an hour! Are you dead? What are those noises? Is that moaning?
- Me: Odfjkldfkdf… Taaaaaacoooo Bell. Pppthmrakldfmdhhhtt…
- Mrs. 1500: Finish up already.
Four years later, it’s still too painful to discuss any further.
Pull-Ups (the opposite of anything fun)
Also painful are pull-ups. Physically, but mostly emotionally.
I remember the humiliation in high-school. Every year, all the boys would line up for:
The Pull-Up Test
With the class watching, I’d jump up to grab the bar. And then, not much would happen. Except for the cute girls laughing at me.
Up until the 10th grade, I could do this many pull-ups:
Something amazing happened my junior year of high-school. I grabbed the bar and did this many pull-ups:
The girls were still laughing, but I was so damn proud, I couldn’t have cared less.
Twenty-seven years later, I finally figured out how to build strength and I can now do more than 1.
Before I tell you the results of the pull-up test, I’m happy to report that I achieved my weight-loss goal. I’m still trailing Mr. WoW, but at least I’m dropping the pounds:
Avert Your Eyes (The Results)
In the interest of transparency, you get to see my futile attempt. In the video, I do not have a shirt on. Don’t interpret this as severely misguided vanity. It is quite the opposite. I hope that you’ll be so horrified/repulsed/disgusted by the thought of my skinny white torso that you won’t watch it. If you must, here it is for your viewing displeasure:
Are you done laughing yet? Please stop, I’m sensitive.
So, I succeeded! And I can hardly believe it. See, I wrote all of the above words before I filmed this video earlier today. I was convinced that I would fail.
Before today, I had never done more than 8 pull-ups at once. And then (somehow and miraculously):
My form wasn’t perfect. I was tired. My elbow hurt from slipping yesterday and falling on it. But I still did it.
I have no idea how. Maybe I was angry at the kids fighting (could you hear them?). Maybe I was motivated not to give one of you $100.
Or maybe it was that I had a cute girl cheering me on instead of jeering me this time.
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