Special Ruse Get Fit Series

By Larry Flesler

I need to find a gym in my quest to slim down. I asked my old pal (and ever-slender) Van to give me a hand.

We started at the Scotch and Sirloin and leafed through the Yellow Pages while dining on steak with mushrooms and onions. An ad for a 24 hour gym around the corner caught our eye so I called and asked if I could stop in and visit with a personal trainer. The man on the phone identified himself as Carl and said he would be glad to see me in one hour.  We had some time to kill so we finished our meals and ordered a pitcher of dirty martinis, then it was off to the gym.

Van and I walked to the gym on wild legs as the martinis started to take hold.

A tall, strapping lad with a shock of red hair greeted us at the door.  “Hi my name is Carl, welcome to Carl’s 24 hour Fitness Emporium.”  I said hello and shook his hand.  Van said hello and gave him a big hug and peck on the cheek. “What are your goals?” asked Carl. I told him: “I want to look like my friend Van: bony girl arms, legs like Serena  Williams and the backside of Cher.”

Carl replied, “I’ll see if I can help.”

The first thing he had me do was an assessment of my flexibility, a measurement of my fat content and a check of my strength.  I laid on the mat and went through a series of stretches. Unfortunately for Carl and the other members of the gym, the steak mushrooms and dirty martinis were done fermenting in my stomach and I let go with a 21 gun salute. Carl winced, let out a scream, held his nose and ran to the exit. He had to hold the door open as the other members were right behind him.  Van and I were alone for about 15 minutes as the mushroom cloud dissipated. We played slap and tickle until Carl finally returned.

“Sorry about that” I said. “That’s OK,” said Carl, his eyes still watering.  “I just wasn’t expecting it to burn so much.”  He decided to skip the rest of the assessment and delve right into my diet.

“What’s your daily nutritional intake, starting with breakfast?” asked Carl.  I replied, “Well, for breakfast I start with a pound of bacon cooked in 4 sticks of butter and a cheese omelette smothered in hot fudge sauce topped with Skittles. For lunch I keep it light: a chicken salad with bacon wrapped sticks of butter and cheesecake for dessert. Dinner is normally done at the Scotch and Sirloin or The Grapevine. We go with either Steak and mushrooms or the King cut (24 ounce) Prime Rib. I’m not a big snacker and rarely get through more than 4 bags of Funions in an evening.”

“Wow” said Carl, “This could be a challenge.  Let’s run through some of the weight machines.”

He sat me down on some sort of leg press machine. I sat there and banged out 40 then 50 pounds when I felt that I was crowning.  I jumped up as fast as I could and nailed my head on a steel cross bar from the machine next to mine. I tumbled down onto Van and floundered around trying to gain my composure. I finally got to my feet but noticed my shorts had torn almost all the way off. By now I was bleeding profusely from a 4 inch gash in my forehead and my coin purse was in full view. I was a little embarrassed but Van kept it together, saying I looked fine and even snapped a few pictures with his camera phone.

“The locker room is over there,” Carl said as he pointed just over my shoulder.  I made my way to the john and did my business. I must have fallen asleep on the commode as I awoke to Van standing beside me in the stall trying to get me up. He was pulling my arm in a feeble attempt to budge me. He  was gentle about it though, kept stroking the top of my head and whispering, “Come on big fella you can do it.”

I must have been sitting there awhile as my left foot fell asleep. I managed to stand with Van’s help and we both made our way out of the locker room and the gym.

Next post: Cardio