I have long said that the best date to start a new resolution is March 18. If you think about it, you have the Super Bowl, President’s Day weekend, and Fat Tuesday all fairly close together. Add in the occasional snow-day party or even a raucous Groundhog’s Day bender, then by the time you get to St. Patrick’s Day, the ultimate resolution breaker, you’ve blown all your New Year’s resolutions anyhow. If you go with March 18, you have nothing except Yankees’ Opening Day, Easter Sunday and maybe a rowdy Mother’s Day kegger until Memorial Day weekend. By then it’ll be summer, and nothing matters in the summer anyhow.
This year my resolution is to get back into shape. When I left college in ’96, I weighed in at 145 lbs – almost scrawny for a guy my height. Well as of press time, I’m currently pulling down 203 lbs, and all that excess mass has certainly gone to all the wrong places.
My two favorite pairs of pants both have elastic waistbands. My girlfriend is beginning to grow envious of my breasts and I had to grow a goatee so that I could figure out which was my real chin. I try to avoid sporting goods stores out of fear that I might be wrongly accused of shoplifting a basketball. Putting it bluntly, I HAVE BECOME ONE FAT #*@%!!!
So it’s time to make a change, before I just give in and buy a Mu-Mu to wear and a Little Rascal to haul my fat arse around. Plus, the all-important “swimsuit season” is just around the corner and I don’t want to make my swim trunks fit like a Speedo.
My Uncle Jimmy, who used to be a bit, shall we say, “husky” himself, is now a certified fitness expert down in Florida. He once suggested that I skip out on the fatty snacks and fight between-meal cravings with fruit instead of chips and cookies. He also muttered some blasphemy about cutting back on the beer, but once I was done sobbing he suggested that I could still get by with a little bit of exercise.
So now I will have to become one of “those people” – the masochistic-jogger types who brave the mean streets of Hoboken in sweatshirts, windpants and sneakers, jogging in place on the corner while waiting to cross the street without becoming another stain on the pavement. But at least the dog will be happy, unless she has a heart attack herself from having done little prolonged exercise in about three and a half years.
In addition, I’m considering that final, horrible stage of Yuppiedom – the health club membership. My friend Eric works at the Hudson Athletic Club (130 Washington St., Hoboken) and he hooked me up with a free seven-day trial. Plus if you join during the month of March, you can receive $100 off your membership fee. The way I see it, I already have a girlfriend, a dog and a cell phone; why not find myself yet another long-term commitment.
So we shall see what happens to my ever-expanding self. I don’t want to lose all the weight, maybe just move it around a bit. But I do ask that you please don’t hate me when I’m beautiful. You’re just jealous because I’m gonna be the one in the newspaper lookin’ all BUFF!!!
BEEFCAKE!!!
If you know how I can effectively waste $50 in the metro area, please write to:
“Hal Wastes His Wages”
c/o The Hudson Current
1400 Washington Street
Hoboken, New Jersey 07030
Or via e-mail:
Current@hudsonreporter.com