Getting ripped

A recent picture posted on facebook by a friend caught me in some bad light. The old midsection was starting to swell so after immediately removing the tag from the picture, I went out and ran like 8 miles.

Running is fun and it will keep me spry when the cops try to ruin my fun but this old boy needs to get back in a weight room. After I came to that conclusion, it hit me. I haven't lifted weights since I moved to this fair island almost a year ago.

So I've done my research and the three finalists are the University of VI weight room, some place in Paradise Point that a co-worker goes to or the gym at Antilles School where my lady works.

Decisions, decisions...

Two days ago, I gave UVI a visit because I wrote a story in the Daily News when it opened two months ago. The athletic director there is a friend and a University of Maryland graduate. Not sure why that is of any relevance, the whole Maryland thing, so let's move on.

I pumped the chest and pectoral muscles (See, I know what I'm talking about) before a weight-lifting class from the school walked in and consumed the entire place. I'm cool with that but the few white students there kept looking at me and whispering to themselves, "Who's that guy, I haven't seen him around campus?" Like they were keeping a running tally on other clueless Caucasians.

The workout was solid and I've been sour for the last 48 hours. No pain, no gain.

As I walked out, the desk attendant, on instructions from the friendly AD, gave me a sign-up package with gym hours, classes offered and all that mumbo jumbo. It came out to $50 a month, which I guess is not that bad but this lazy guy would have to drive across the island for every workout. Not happening.

The Paradise Point joint is close to the house and I could actually run there from my house, which is a huge plus. I'm all about the environment and not trying to burn those fossil fuels, considering I have not had an emissions check on my automobile since '07.

The gym at my girl's school is supposed to be big time. Haven't seen it yet. If they have a dodge ball league or if they let me get my Presidential Fitness badge (remember those things?), then I might be sold.

Ahh, the Presidential Fitness badge. Remember the shuttle run with the blackboard erasers? The stupid V-sit always ruined me. It wasn't my fault I was a long, lengthy character whit short arms. I was always the best athlete in all my PE classes but I never could snag that badge.

My dodge ball skills, on the other hand, were among elite status. Maybe I should start a dodge ball league on St. Thomas? Let me try to get Vince Vaughn on the phone.

My man hasn't made a decent movie since Swingers and I bet I can bench more than him. Baby, that was so money!