Another weekend passed and I am yet to embark on that strenuous journey towards achieving my success with the ’1-2-6’ resolution. Unlike, how it sounds, this is not my ‘One hundred and twenty sixth’ resolution; this one is just a name. The idea is to convert my abdomen, which currently resembles an inverted little wok with a single dangling handle into a flatter thing sported by those ‘in the forties’ Bollywood stars. In short, transform this one large ‘sack’ into six small packs; something that I never had, not even while I was in my teens. Well, at that point of time, I was living under this fake belief that one could get six packs by merely doing the ab-crunches.
Somewhere in 2009, I had enrolled onto a website with the address www.fasttracktofatloss.com and from there, gathered enough knowledge and motivation to pull down the waste around my waist by some two inches and the weight per se from 82kgs to 72kgs. Life was great, and I was actually getting and feeling younger and was on my way to get my much deserved abs, when I found another website with the address http://www.facebook.com/ and an application called skype, both of which reunited me with my long lost friends and hijacked away all of the time allocated for fitness and replaced it with activities like ‘chatting, drinking, eating and partying with long distance friends’ and ‘writing silly status messages and even sillier comments on my friends’ and my friends’ friend’s walls’. Needless to say, I am getting more ‘FIT’ with the tippling than with the working out and that the weight is steadily increasing and has yesterday touched 76kgs. The waist has added back one inch of waste and I think I might have to re-re-alter the waist-size of my formal trousers or end up attending work in casuals; threaded pyjamas to be precise.
In short, friends have not been of any good help in achieving success with this resolution, but neither have been my wife or kids.
Intermittently, I try getting back into my gym mode and lock myself into the Bed Room by faking to go on a nap. But my kids are mine and they get nasty if they don’t hear me snoring if I am locked up in a room for a while. Kevin keeps banging the door until I let him in and in all eagerness; tries to imitate me doing the exercises. Yohan on the other hand hops onto my back as I do my push-ups and starts begging for his horse ride, or starts crawling between my legs during the sit-ups and spiderman climbs.
Of late wifey dearest has been re-inventing herself as a culinary expert of sorts. She has been baking yummy cakes, and exotic dishes that have left me craving for more. Again, as I write this, I am distracted by the aroma of a duck roasting and my mind is already contemplating a drink before lunch.
Since none of my friends; all my wives (except for Beth, the food cop) and kids have been of any help at all, I have geared up myself in my own way and made all the preparation, so that even if I fail, I don’t fail because of the lack of institution. My elements include downloaded copies of exercise charts named ‘Six pack abs in 3D’, a ‘Turbulence training kit’, a sparingly used treadmill, an unused exercise mat and some weights, which now, I can barely lift.
Wish me best of luck.
