Roger never considered himself a fitness enthusiast but, given the gradual deterioration of his muscle tone and the rather soft disposition of his midsection, he thought it was about time. And yes, midsections can develop a soft disposition.
One gym membership later, he was eavesdropping amongst the Herculean clientele who lurked amongst the free-weights. Picking up tips on how to lift things properly and what foods to put into his body to stimulate growth and whatnot.
No one would argue that the ears are a muscle, but in retrospect, Roger should have considered improving his eavesdropping skills before putting misheard information into action.
As the writer of this tale, I could easily invent exactly what it was he overheard, but for the life of me, I have no idea. The bottom line was that he thought he heard that protein powder was too expensive and that pancake mix would work just as well.
So every morning from that point on, Roger had a big heaping glass of pancake mix. While it did not seem to be increasing the size of his pecs, glutes or quads, it did create a powerful craving for syrup. In fact, after only a few weeks, he began flipping through literature about vacationing in Vermont.
He didn’t know why.
Unhappy with his results, he turned back to eavesdropping. In addition to his hearing, he might have also worked on his ability to detect sarcasm. This latest shortcoming led him to begin adding a dozen multi-vitamins to his morning shake.
I hope you’ll forgive him for this, as one could build a pretty solid case that if one of something is good for you, naturally a dozen would be better.
After a few of these new shakes, he went to bed eager to wake up the next morning to admire his “gains.”
Imagine his disappointment when the only “gains” he could see involved his pee.
He had “gained” urine that was so yellow, it could be seen from space. Should it even splash the slightest bit, whatever the fabric on the receiving end, it would dye it yellow in perpetuity.
Ironically, even Gain detergent couldn’t get out the stains.
Then one day at the gym, he noticed a rather plump woman on one of the machines, sweating and groaning as she tried to lift the weight a few more times. Inspired, he wandered over to introduce himself. “It’s nice to see someone pushing themselves in the pursuit of getting fit,” he offered.
As she was seated and he was standing, her eyes had little option but to drink in the bright yellow spots on his shorts. His shorts smelled like detergent. She didn’t want to be rude, so she quickly looked up at him. “Muhammed Ali once said he doesn’t count the number of push-ups he does until they start hurting.” She paused for dramatic effect. “Those are the only ones that count.”
Roger smiled. He made a note to himself to write that down and put it on his refrigerator.
He was so moved by the idea of this woman sharing something so insightful, he thought he’d return the favor.
“Want to know a secret I picked up about getting stronger?”
She nodded to the affirmative and he leaned in conspiratorially.
He then told her about the pancake mix.
After hearing his explanation, she thought he might be the ideal person to explain carbonation to her. She never understood how they get bubbles into liquids and make them fizzy.
Some months later, they got engaged and moved to Vermont.