Exercise problems

Ben Robinson

Ben Robinson

All About Ben

By Ben Robinson

It’s February, and I need to exercise some to avoid the “fat guy in summer” syndrome. For the past few weeks my exercise has been kind either “shiver” or simply avoid falling down in the snow. Sounds exciting, but it burns very few calories.

Today at lunch I did the “stare at attractive girl” exercise, which did not burn off any calories, though the guy she was with looked ready to attempt the “beat up fat guy maneuver.”

So tonight I need to find some other forms of exercise that are acceptable to society but not insulting to strangers.

I grew up in the country, and my mother would tell you that I spent far too many hours “bouncing that ball” on a homemade basketball court. That apparently was not too good as far as exercise goes, because I was a chubby kid too. Now, years later I am again living at the old homeplace, but a tree fell and ruined my basketball goal.

Oh course now, I can drive over to the public courts at the park that the county has so graciously provided, but I’m not sure how well that would work. When I was a kid, I was always the best player on the court, largely because I was the only player on the court. Adding another player, which would probably happen on a public court, might destroy my rhythm. Worse yet, I might not be so good.

In my imaginary games, I was the star with four imaginary “players.”

The other players were my friends, or at least they had the same name as some of my friends. For some reason I had an imaginary guy at center whom I called Pete Peterson. I guess I knew none of my friends were tall. And the center had to be tall. Of course, in real life I played the role of Pete Peterson, so he was actually short and dumpy.

But I pretended I was tall and thin when I played being Pete.

So I’m not sure how well I would adjust to having other players on the court. I know that when I was in my teen years, a girl played with us guys in the school gymnasium. She was so much better than me in every aspect of the game, but I enjoyed when she would “box out” for rebounds. I could never get a rebound from her, but I enjoyed her pushing against me after a shot. Eventually she quit playing with us guys, but I always appreciated her efforts when she did play. I would have married that girl, but I think she was looking for someone who could play better defense.

Either way, plying on the public court could be at least awkward for me, and I don’t need awkward in exercises. I need my exercise to be like me, as mindless as possible.

Once again, staring at girls is not considered exercise, although when their boyfriends catch me, I can get good exercise from running from them. But I’m so fat and slow now, I may have to see how much weight getting beat up burns, but I’m guessing it ain’t much.

So I will try to exercise by walking up and down our driveway, which is a quarter of a mile long. It’s not exciting, but its unlikely to offend anyone.