Which one would you be?
I have a deep, abiding love of zombie fiction. While I do realize that our cultural landscape has now become littered with a dizzying array of zombie stories, be they film, game, book or haiku (yes, there is Zombie Haiku, and yes, it’s AWESOME), there’s still something appealing about the concept as a whole. Ultimately, we all believe that we are a member of the select few that would endure during the onslaught of the undead, and we imagine ourselves striding across a corpse-strewn field, shotgun in hand, confident that tomorrow’s sunrise will find us alive and thriving.
But the fact is, I would most likely be one of the shambling snackers sprinting after those who actually focused on cardio before the outbreak.
As Americans, our lives have become a day-by-day process of avoiding physical exertion of any kind. We slap wheels on the base of our office chairs so we can roll around our cubicle. We clutch at remotes to avoid the drudgery of walking the 10 feet to our television. We call and order food that makes us fatter so that we don’t have to expend a single calorie to obtain our pizza. Our lives are carefully designed and brilliantly engineered to make sure that our heart rate never gets higher than normal, with the obvious exceptions of sex or a particularly exciting episode of The Walking Dead.
As such, should a situation arise that demands that we pick up those knees and move like we have a purpose, the majority of us will promptly find ourselves face first on the pavement, wheezing and gasping while the walkers gnaw cheerfully on our oversized buttocks. We have lived our lives to make sure that we lack any physical ability of any kind, but at least we’ll provide a delicious buffet that is sure to have a zombie look over at his friend and say, “Seriously, Frank, go ahead. I’m halfway through his love handles and couldn’t eat another bite. I’m going to go take a nap.”
I began the effort to get healthy for a number of reasons, many of which I’ve spoken about in this blog. But when I sit in a movie theater and watch Brad Pitt dodge the howling horde, I can’t help but think that the 70 pounds I’ve dropped off my frame may very well extend my life span should the infected come a-knockin’. Recently, I began going to the gym on a regular basis. Part of my exercise routine is a couch to 5k program, designed to take a professional remote wrangler like myself and transform him into someone who can actually jog a block without hearing St. Peter in his ear saying, “Already? Well, look at his gut. Can’t say we didn’t see that coming.”
But exercise has been proven to be more effective with a goal. I now have one. The other day at work, a coworker excitedly informed me that he had signed up for a 5K. But not just any 5K.
.png){kind=icon}
That’s right. On September 29th, I will lace up my running shoes and do my damnedest to avoid a horde of hipsters dressed up as our favorite shotgun shell sponges for five kilometers. I will sprint and scramble my way through the streets of Nashville, and I’ll be able to do so because I stopped eating garbage and started taking the damn stairs. I have less than three months, but those three months are now focused on being as lean and mean as possible, to improve my chances of reaching the finish line without being (metaphorically) munched upon.
So I put this challenge out there to those who follow this blog: If you’re in the Nashville area, and you think this sounds like fun, give me a shout out either here in the comments below or on my Facebook page. If there’s enough interest, I’ll form a team, and we can all celebrate our improved chances in the zombie apocalypse together. Take Shape for Life has done amazing things for all of us. Let’s see if it can help us dodge some undead bastards, shall we?
Jan. 2, 2013 Starting Weight: 280 lbs
June 9, 2013 Weigh-In: 212 lbs
Body Fat percentage: 21.8%
Total Weight Loss since January 2: 68 lbs
Days until Zombie Outbreak: 86
Fat Nerd to Slim Nerd 