Getting Out of Work for a Work Out

I like to wok out during my lunch hour. It’s one of the very few fool-proof ways to be regularly and excusably absent from your job during normal work hours. What’s the boss going to say? “Be healthy on your own time!”

Anyway, it seems like a lot of people agree with me, because my gym is really busy during the noon hour. It’s fun to watch people circle the parking lot; trying to find the closest spot before going in to run on the treadmill. Like the extra three calories you burn will kill you, fatty.

I actually work out at a suburban YMCA, which is basically a game preserve for old man flab.

That’s a terrible analogy, actually, because in my experience, old man flab doesn’t need preservation; it’s an abundant resource. I imagine someone could win the Nobel Prize for making cars that run on old man flab. If I invented the car, I’d give the design away for free and demand as payment only old-man-flab mining rights to all the YMCA locker rooms in America.

I work out and the YMCA rather than one of those tomb-like commercial gyms for a couple of reasons. First, the Y doesn’t make you sign some two year contract, presumably because they don’t expect half their members to live two years. Also, it’s a family environment, which is nice. You get some variety, which not only livens things up, it helps you feel good in the locker room. I’ve already mentioned the old man flab, which makes my young man flab look stately by comparison. Plus, if there’s kids, you can always think to yourself ‘on average, I’m pretty well hung!’