Climb

Climb: (v) to ascend, especially by using the feet and sometimes the hands

Everyone understands the choice but no one discusses it. It is an unspoken piece of information that is decided in the internal workings of every human being.

You have to find out if you would like to go to a gym and sweat four times a week so that when you climb a flight of stairs, you won’t sweat.

There you go. I don’t know why nobody talks about it.

People working out in the gym are not thinking about how they’ll feel when they’re sixty-five or seventy years old. They just want to make sure that if they’re on a date and there’s a half-mile walk to the auditorium, or a two-hour wait standing in line at the restaurant, or four flights of stairs to ascend to reach the destination, that they will be able to do it without looking like they’re flirting with death.

Also, nobody wants to be the one panting the loudest in the bedroom after sex. If you’re a man and it sounds like you’re going to have a heart attack because you made love to your woman, it may just discourage her from trying again.

It is our vanity that presses us on to bench-press.

And for those who think to themselves, what do I care if it takes forty-two seconds for me to recover my breath after climbing a flight of stairs?–well, you will never catch those individuals stomping, dancing or doing a Pilate.

Do people live longer because they are aerobically able to climb without much difficulty? There’s no evidence for that. They just look prettier and healthier doing it.

Don’t get me wrong. There’s much to be said for reaching the top of a mountain with your clothes undrenched.

But unless it is a major concern, or you’re just bound and determined to convey that your tight pecs, flat abs and muscular legs make you more sexy, I think you will probably join the ranks of those who file away from the gymnasium.

 

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Abduct

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter AAbduct: v.  to take someone away illegally by force or deception; kidnap.

I think I could sell that product.

I think I could make an infomercial and take in millions of dollars off of a new idea called Ab-Duct. It would be a duct-tape, manufactured in flesh colors, which you wrap around your midsection to produce the illusion of tight abs. I would sell a pen set along with the Ab-Duct, so you could draw in the muscles to make it look more authentic.

I think I even have a by-line: “Use our tape to bind up your faults and weaknesses and kidnap your flab.”

What do you think?

Of course, you’d have to offer the warning that if you kept the tape on too long it might cause you to get gangrene and die. But other than that, for like two hours of GUARANTEED leanness, you could have your flesh-colored duct tape completely holding in the more “gutteral” parts of your being.

Another possible weakness is that the fat that had settled into your lower Mississippi delta would push up to the top, making it appear that you had sprouted breasts. But this could be overcome, I’m sure, in some sort of marketing angle, or just the suggestion that you never remove your clothing.

Ab-Duct:  for those who want to capture their plumpness–and once and for all, win the Battle of the Bulge.