Triple Threat Part One

Can one couch potato lose weight, tone up and knock the cigs on the head in eight weeks? Wayne Assiratti finds out…

So, I woke up the other morning and noticed that I was no longer necessarily as slim and svelte as I remember.  It appears that seven years of marriage and little exercise can do something to a man’s waistline. Ok. I admit it. It has nothing to do with my wife, cats, kids and mortgage. It has lots to do with the fact that I lead a very sedentary lifestyle now. I drive everywhere, I sit down a lot at work and do very little exercise.

You see I have a mental image of how I look. I’m sure that I am not the only bloke that thinks they look one way and are in denial about the harsh facts of reality. The inner me is about 25 years old, broad of shoulder, snake of hip, elegantly coiffured, long of leg and born to wear tight jeans. Trust me of this too; although there is little photographic evidence, I actually looked like that when I was 25. Dare I say it, I was hot. The harsh reality is that I’m 38, sallow of skin, wide of girth, greying of hair, bowed of leg and resigned to wearing “comfort fit” jeans.  

About, three months ago, through the power of Facebook, I got in touch with an old friend I used to knock around with back in the day. Mark, that’s my old friend, is nearly ten years older than me. He looks, and I’m not exaggerating here, about five years younger. No bull. He is fit as a flea, good looking, bright eyed and the proud possessor of a waistline the inner me is eyeing with some considerable envy. Inner me is considering finding some overweight people to hang around with. 

So I say to him “How on earth do you do it sunshine?”. He smiles and says “Simple. Decent diet and regular exercise.” I wanted to punch him in the face. I wanted him to say “I made a deal with the devil. I look great, but I am condemned for all eternity.”. I didn’t want him to tell me something that I actually really knew but was pretending not to. Then I made a deal with my own personal devil. Mark became my personal trainer. Find out in the next instalment how I sweat through the first week.