Sunday, December 27, 2009

Kicking the habits.

Boxing Day. Having to explain to the plumber why there was a large, partially eaten, dark chocolate Toblerone bar lodged in the toilet would have been embarrassing enough – but the temptation to eat it, even after it was fished out of the pipes would have been overwhelming – which is how I came to flushing it down the toilet in the first place.

Once again, Santa, the prick, failed to deliver me willpower.

Although, as I type this, I am like Gandhi – fasting – which is to say I haven't eaten anything since 10am, except for the candy cane stuck in the dog's fur, which was totally fine after I rinsed the hair off. I'm fasting because we are going to see a movie this afternoon and I need to be hungry for popcorn, or there's really no point in paying $25 bucks to be bitterly disappointed in the dark for an hour and 45 minutes, not including the 50 or so minutes of trailers.

Why do they call them trailers if they come before a movie?

So, as I eagerly await showtime, I have purged our home of all evils of the festive season. Like an Exorcist I have flushed, garburated and pissed all over bobbing shortbreads, egg nog, Clamato, cashews, rum, rum balls, rum cake, Schmirnoff, Absolut, Rondele cheese, cheesies, Swiss cheese and not to discriminate, devilish gingerbread men and women. Our fridge is now back to its pre-season vacuous state of mold, mustard and nothingness. Gandhi would be proud.

If only I could purge my bloated, Mrs. Claus-esque body quite so easily. This next decade I am determined to get back into some sort of shape – preferably not a circle – that doesn't have me shying away from mirrors like a middle-aged vampire. I have a membership waiting to be activated at Palooka's Boxing Club and so far have fabricated an excuse for not attending every class time offered in 2009. Yesterday, I was all geared up for a four o'clock Muay Thai class, but then I realized it was kickboxing, not Polynesian bartending. I don't think I could raise my leg in the air even if I was lying down with Andy Roddick.

The Courtyard Tennis and Fitness Club have also planned a timely, 2-day tennis Boot Camp, January 2 & 3rd and barring a tsunami, alcohol poisoning or an unplanned pregnancy, I am going. Unless of course, there's traffic, something good on TV, cramps, a northwest wind or solar eclipse. Space is limited, so hurry and sign up, because I can't go if there aren't any spots left.

But first, it's pop, Nibs, and large popcorn with real butter time. The movie rating says: Not Recommended For Children, and Substance Abuse Topics, which is perfect because the little bastard isn't going and I think I can rescue a few ounces of vodka from the recycling bag.

I'll take a few procrastinating swings at health and fitness tomorrow.

Palooka's Boxing Club offers classes for men, women and children in everything from kickboxing to Boxercise.

The Courtyard Tennis & Fitness Club have drop-in tennis lessons, regular lessons and a large fitness and weight-training facility.