The Ultimate Fat Guy Workout

I understand putting together the words "fat guy" and "workout" in a post title is somewhat of an oxymoron, but I swear this has a point. Well, it has about as much of a point as anything you'll find on this site.

I came up with this idea a few months ago when I found myself stuck at the mechanic with my truck up on the lift for at least an hour. I had nothing planned and no one around to stop by and help kill the time.

Unable to simply sit in the waiting room — which had no television and only car magazines — I was forced to explore an unfamiliar town on foot.

Since the road was slated to the west, westward was where I headed. After about 15 minutes, I happened upon a small strip mall occupied with a liquor store, cigar shop, deli, and a doughnut shop.

As you would expect, the doughnut shop's lovely neon blue and red sign called to me like ... uh ... like a doughnut shop would call to a fat dude forced to walk around for no damn reason.

Anyway, feeling pretty proud of myself for "exercising" for the past quarter hour, I was convinced I needed to be rewarded. The prize: a dozen glazed doughnut holes.

Why doughnut holes you ask, well, here's a little back story.

About a year ago I found out the hard way that we, as Americans, have too much freedom. Namely, when I head into a doughnut shop for a couple of regular chocolate sprinkles, I noticed a whole dozen only cost $6. And no one man should be able to purchase 12 doughnuts without proof they will be shared.

It's the same reason you can only get two beers when you head to the ballpark.

Well, that's a deal too good to pass up. Those dozen, regular-sized doughnuts were my sole source of sustenance for that day. Let's just say the next day did not go well. It was when I came up with the theory of the "food hangover." But that's for another post.

OK, let's get back to "Ultimate Fat Guy Workout."

A dozen doughnut holes is just the right amount of doughnut for me, as well as the rest of humanity for that matter. The holes were definitely a most wonderful reward for my short journey.

Then, after a short conversation with the shop's owner, as well as a forgettable interview on the Today Show, I headed back to pick up my truck.

As you may recall, I headed west in the first place because the road slid downhill. I often have this problem. I head the easy way, not realizing I will just have to head back uphill to return to my original destination. I reluctantly accept responsibility for my ignorance.

While sluggishly carrying my mass up the incline — resembling a slow moving sheet of ice in the Arctic — I realized I had accidently stumbled upon the perfect workout for me and my people.

Think about it. I got a good 30 minute workout, which most nutrition folk would agree is a proper amount of time to maintain a healthy lifestyle. But I also got to indulge in the glory that is fried dough sloppily smothered in liquified sugar. Which is just the thing those same folks would say help maintain an unhealthy lifestyle.

I get to feel good in two, distinct ways. I am staying healthy, while at the same time, satisfying my belly beast. 

That, ladies and gentlemen, is what we call killing two birds with one stone.

I (heart) pie.