The New Workout Plan
Let's face it. We could probably all stand to be in better shape than we are. You've tried all the fad diets, and you know how much you love bread, so that straight up just ain't gonna work. You'd go to the gym every day, but who has that kind of time? Besides, no one wants to get stared at by a bunch of jarheads in MMA shirts when you're just trying to get in some cardio. It seems hopeless, doesn't it?
In the grand scheme of things, it's all hopeless. None of this fucking matters. Your old man told you as much when you were a child that you'd never amount to anything, and here you are, complaining about not being able to get down to your college weight while you spend your days trapped in a job that you can't stand. But if you think about it, that's where all your problems started, isn't it? Dad never believed in you, he never supported you when you said you wanted to be an actor instead of a football player, when you said you wanted to pursue stand-up comedy instead of going to law school.
He's mocked you from the start. But now he's an old ass man. Now he's not as strong and fast as he used to be. Now the Old Milwaukee doesn't give him heightened senses the way it did before your mom divorced him. Now he's slow. Now he's weak. Now he's the prey.
There is no better workout than one that puts everything you have on the line. If your workout isn't a matter of life and death, then your workout is fucking bullshit. Hunt your father, the way your mother would've wanted if she hadn't moved on and married some ponytailed dickhead named Rico. Rico's a pain in the ass, but it's not Rico you're mad at. It's your dad, because after all, Rico didn't take away your Super Nintendo conroller when you accidentally spilled an open bottle of Bud Light.
Give your old man an hour head start if you want a particularly intense workout. Besides, dad has smoked a pack a day every day since you were born, so he's gonna need every advantage he can get. And when you finally stand over your father's beaten body, triumphant, release him. Because if you're really serious about losing some weight, you're gonna wanna commit to about a year or so of tracking your father like a frightened animal. He may never know the joy of you giving him grandchildren, but he will know the terror of seeing his own child pursue him with the unwavering determination of a goddamn Terminator. Every day will be a lesson in horror, every second a universe of fear.
Forget Paleo, forget Adkins, forget a personal trainer. If you really wanna see results, then hunt your father for sport and show him who's daddy now.
Written by Dustin Meadows
Dustin is a comedian, writer, and failed musician.