Out-Of-Shape

Listening to a lot of blues lately. To my mind, Buddy Guy is THE guy. (But of course all you people under the age of 100 are now going to send me the names of blues people I've never heard of. "Doc, haven't you listened to Fat Matt the Rat's latest CD, "If these Are Hard Times How Come My Baby Ain't Moved My Stimulation Package Fo Weeks?")

There is this expression "out-of-shape" which doesn't mean someone or something has morphed into a completely different configuration. Usually. There are those exceptions in nature like the caterpillar to butterfly, the lycanthrope or even the wife whose wedding anniversary has been forgotten and a demon takes her place, but generally out-of-shape means a familiar state of physical conditioning is lacking in a given individual. I am, I confess, that individual. I am dreadfully, morbidly, grotesquely out-of-shape. Even my shape is out-of-shape, although that has been in evidence for some years now and concerns me less than my lack of conditioning. I realize that four months of doing next to nothing and sometimes not even getting close enough to nothing to be called next to it, can lead to the aforesaid out-of-shape. The question I now pose, is what to do about it?

What I want to do is go to the Broncos Training Center and begin the two-a-days that jump start their pre-season routine. This works so well for them that they are actually able to play for a few games. What I would really like to do after that is to participate in their Pre-Playoffs routine, but apparently they don't have one. Unfortunately, it is the wrong time of year for football, so I need an alternative plan. The fact that typing that last sentence caused me to breathe hard and then grab a quick nap are the sort of things that hinder my recovery and have to be taken into consideration when devising my get into shape strategy. I need some really physically awesome personal trainer like Arnold or The Rock or Richard Simmons to motivate me into Dancing to the Oldies and not just with them. (I tried dancing to Buddy Guy but learned that most blues sound much better when sitting down and drinking than actually standing up and milling about, so that didn't work at all.) My only attempts thus far at actual physical activity is dog walking and driving to get a pizza. The dog walking has been useful in that the pups seem happier and more fit. Mostly though, I just get tired. The pizza drive has not been helpful so far, but I don't think I've tested the program long enough. I think a few more years at least are called for to give it an honest evaluation as a physical conditioner.

But not to worry readers, I am not the kind of guy to let a thing like this remain unattended to. In the next few days I am going to research every last bite of material regarding this out-of-shape phenomena on the Internet and then... read every bit of it. That, I think, should solve the problem. I might even read it every day for a while, but I'll want to be very careful with that. I mean, I wouldn't want to get too buff. Those lumpy guys are just out-of-shape in a different way. If you ask me, they need to get as dedicated to change as I am.

Anyway, whatever happens I'll let you know. Right now though, I'm going to put on some Fat Matt the Rat and get on down.