It’s that time of year again. No, it’s not time to check back into rehab, smart asses. If last year taught us anything, it’s that nothing can solve a significant substance abuse problem quite like two hookers, mounds of blow, a twitter account, tiger blood, a bad publicist, and a hastily arranged “World Tour”. All of those things = Problem Solved and a new TV show!
It’s time to work on my beach muscles, the glamour muscles, the vanity muscles…whatever you want to call them. It’s time to hit the core. I’m talking abs, quads, biceps. Hell, I may even do a trapezius (but not both – they don’t deserve it* – and I’m fully aware that may leave me with an awkward hunchback look). Glutes, you ask? Of course. Where others see a runner with little to no ass – possibly even concavely bending towards the anus – I see a rigid, structurally aesthetic** set of twin man butt mounds shamefully hidden from full public appreciation. My most surprising choice may be the decision to include the sphincter amongst my glamour muscles. But homeboy here isn’t satisfied unless he can jettison waste with a sharp pit-tooie! sound like a B.B. pellet rocketing against a paint can. Take this ass canon into a standard issue piece of Applebee’s porcelain and see how many looks you get around the common sink.
It’s not like my core goes neglected all year though. Long time F.M.S. readers know all about my affection for stretchy banding and crunching. Certainly my family is well aware of my penchant for expelling farts with an ab tearing primal grunt, forcing them out two minutes before they are “due”. I work the core. I work it all year, baby. It helps my running. And my farting. But, mostly, my running.
But things get a little ragged during the holiday. I may be crunching with a plate of cookies balanced on my belly. I rehydrate during stretchy banding with swigs of rum and eggnog. Okay, maybe rum and Coke. Truthfully, rum with a Coke chaser. Okay, okay, it’s just the rum. Mixed with Wild Turkey whiskey. I still stretchy band but, instead of looong, slooow satisfying strokes, it’s more conjugal prison style, if you know what I mean. There’s no time to waste during the holidays. My pleasure centers need engaging. My gluttony needs gluttoned. There isn’t something tasty and/or intoxicating touching my lips and/or body so things must change.
Sometime after the first of the year, I wake up with cookie crumbs around my mouth, a gradually decreasing B.A.C., 6-7 extra pounds around my belly, and a hideously flabby sphincter. My eyes are groggy, hair unkempt…What. The. Hell. Just. Happened???
So every new year, I rededicate myself to the core…where 11 months of discipline will undoubtedly peter out again in an orgy of chocolate, alcohol, chocolate alcohol, and nougat – whatever the hell that is. Let the rededication begin!
Every runner knows – or should know by now – that a strong core is crucial. It controls your body positioning, your gait, your turnover, your breathing, and keeps the jiggle to a minimum. There are all sorts of studies out there that analyze just how much a strong core can help you go faster and longer (and, apparently, litter your blog post with double entendres) so I’m not going to repeat the science here. This is not a science blog if you weren’t aware. Witness how much time I’ve spent already making sphincter jokes. Suffice to say, the core is important and, if you aren’t already working it, you should be. Here’s my normal Monday through Thursday routine (I save the weekends for my gluttony addiction):
- 20 minutes stretchy banding (I have 5 workouts without multiple reps that work the arms, shoulders, one trapezius and the core)
- 500-600 crunches/ab exercises (I have various “stations” of my leg positioning to work different areas)
- 1-2 controlled, quality farts (I have two different intonations I prefer to disgust the family)
All of these are done nightly during the week days while watching various sporting events or ridiculous television shows. It’s amazing how TV can help you with your core. Ever try planking for the duration of a commercial break? Not as easy as it sounds - especially if you get one of those long 4 minute breaks that A&E’s Intervention specializes in.
I can’t say for sure that it helps my running. But I know I prefer not to have my belly jiggling so much when I’m huffing and puffing my way down a sidewalk shirtless on a warm summer’s day. I figure I’ll work the core until I can either wash my clothes on my abs, play the xylophone on them, or race Fisher Price Little People mogul style down the ole treasure trail. Pick your metaphor.
At least for the next eleven months, then it’s a month long Sheen fest again. But that’s a long way off…a lot of blow, hookers and World Tours.
* Long story but they know what they did
** Or, “ass”-thetic, as the case may be.
NYC Update: I see in the last few days that the NYC Marathon has charged the FULL amount of the race to my credit card - not just the application fee. So....either I'M IN...or I just got mugged. Virtually.