Friday, March 02, 2007

Losing It

I was driving home from work one night, thinking about how I really need to make an effort to get in shape and drop a few pounds. Should I start going to the Community Center, maybe 24 Hour Fitness? Maybe I should get one of those contraptions they sell on TV. Of course, I also need to cut down on the double-cheeseburgers and Chipotle mega-burritos.

As I emerged from my fitness daydream, I realized that a car had been following me for some time. Since I take a fairly distinct and circuitous route home, it seemed more than a coincidence that this car would be still be tailing me after such a long while. From what I could tell, it was a Ford SUV, an Explorer or Excursion or Extortion or something. It was black, so black that it was almost green. And its windows were tinted, including the windshield, which I thought was illegal. The windshield wasn't as dark as the rest of the windows, though, so I could still see into the car if the light was right.

I decided to alter my course a bit, just to see what would happen. I waited as long as I could and then veered off onto the exit ramp for Shawnee Mission Parkway. Sure enough, the driver of the SUV wrenched the steering wheel and continued the pursuit, fishtailing through the grass and back onto the pavement.

Just as the car righted itself, the sun shone perfectly the windshield and illuminted the driver. It wasn't a man at all; it was an amorphous blob with no actual arms to steer with, just extensions of goo wrapped around the wheel. It was somewhat translucent but with a shade of pale yellow or beige, kind of like the last few sips of a watered-down iced tea.

While my mind was trying to sort out this bizarre set of circumstances, I noticed the personalized license plate of my pursuer: THEWGHT.

And then it all clicked:

I was trying to lose "The Weight".

Somehow, the combination of my physical flab and my mental picture of it had loosed itself from my body and become its own entity, chasing me through the streets of Johnson County.

I regrouped and focused on the road ahead, intent on losing "The Weight" for good. I accelerated and started zipping in and out of traffic. "The Weight" was not to be deterred; it deftly manuevered through the holes that I had navigated and stayed right on my tail.

Then I had an idea.

I picked up an apple that had fallen out of Samantha's lunch sack that morning and started eating it. I also grabbed the passenger-side seatbelt and started doing curls. I looked into the rearview mirror again and noticed that "The Weight" had lost some ground. Quickly, I lowered my seat back as far as it could go and started doing mini-crunches, leaning just far enough back that I could still see where I was going. With each sit-up I completed, I noticed "The Weight" dropping further and further behind.

When I finally got home, I looked around, hoping that disgusting sack of fat wasn't lurking behind a bush or fence. Once I realized that the coast was clear, I breathed a deep sigh of relief. I had lost "The Weight". Right then and there I resolved to start eating less Twinkies and to quit using elevators.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

oh my, you had robin and i cracking up..once we realized you didn't have some nut chasing you. great story...and i think you may have a money idea...selling excercise equipment that fits in a car. go for it nick..........

samantha said...

hi! This is sam. I love you dad! You are the best dad in the world! Thanks!

samantha said...

ella SAYS HI TO YOU AND VICK! sO, hIIIIIIIII!

Nick said...

Thanks, Samantha! You're the best daughter in the world! I love you!