So there I was, loitering on the corner of Roeland and Buitenkant last night, when my good buddy JDP came zooting up the street under a brand new black helmet and astride his classic vintage Vespa. I didn’t know he had just bought it and didn’t even recognize him. Good laugh seeing him sitting there like a slightly inebriated meerkat as he took off Vespa-rado style…
That was a good gut-buster. This morning was a different story.
But let’s start at the beginning.
After 22 plus years of being the poster child for Stuyvesant Filter, I quit smoking just over a year ago and was astonished to find that I’d picked up a couple of kilos. All of which have apparently manifested themselves in a boep as new as JDP’s Vespa. So I’ve been putting off the ‘7 Minute Abs’ for some time now, and when another friend, Sheik Yerbouti, mentioned that they were starting a new tummy crunch fitness routine, I miraculously decided to match their endeavours. Something along the lines of “How ever many you do, I’ll do as well…”
Now there’s no telling if SY will be telling me the truth and thereby forcing me to do X amount of sit ups every morning, but let’s for the sake of this missive, assume that they do in fact do as many as they claim.
The first thing I had to figure out was where to do these damn ab crunches. Bathroom floor proved disastrous. Even with my legs hooked/dangling over the bath edge. No purchase. My first 20 or so crunches were less “crunch” and more “slide around looking stupid”. Off to the lounge then, where I finally settled on hooking my feet under the couch and could eventually get on with my exercise.
For the love of all things holy! This is going to be a long and arduous journey back to Sixpackville. It was excruciating. Somehow, when I was doing this in the Army, I could do millions (in my mind). I was flat out on my back puffing and wheezing and wondering who was punching me in my boep after a mere 12 or so. I lost count when I was on the verge of blacking out (possibly somewhere around 23) but I had a challenge to meet!
Successfully, if somewhat sneakily, I got there in the end and kinda sideways slithered my way back to the bathroom. The mirror revealed no progress whatsoever, so I soaked under the hot shower and tried not to cry…