In 1968, police stopped and questioned Strom Thurmond after they caught him jogging. Yet in 1957 he filibustered for 24 hours to stop the Civil Rights Act passing, so you could argue jogging wasn’t his worst crime. The ’60s was a strange time for those unusual folks who loved to ‘get their shred on’. In 1968, The New York Times ran an article on the strange freaks who chose to RUN in their free time. As antiquated as such opinions may be, I argue the world in which we arrested the fitness types was a better one. Now, I know what you’re thinking, reader…
Hey, aren’t you like the police officer in that photo writing that bikini-clad woman a ticket for wearing a bikini? Perhaps. Or you could argue I’m protesting against an item of clothing named after a nuclear explosion. Its inventor, Louis Réard, wanted people to associate scantily-clad women with the nuclear bomb.
Ah, yes. The Adventures of Irradiation Girl. That’s one of my favourite comic books. There I am, on the beach, and this beautiful woman comes over to me. GASP! She’s in a bikini! Next thing you know, my face is melting off like in The Terminator…
One thing these gorgeous beach ladies have in common with the atomic bomb are the flat tums. A certain something a certain Senator Strom wanted to have. Although surely the thought of him in a bikini is alarming. Perhaps he was running away from his daemons. Or toward them. I’m not sure.
But fitness was not a craze invented in the decade that gave us polyester suits and a distinct lack of bras. But it was also the decade in which fitness entered the mainstream. Gyms sprung up. Fitness videos hit the once mighty shelves of the fallen Blockbuster empire. Magical fitness pills became the preserve of older men in long brown trench coats, with the collar turned up to obscure the face. Porn shop connoisseurs, if you will.
Fitness was shameful. Then it was mainstream. And I think it should be shameful once more. While there is nothing wrong with being healthy, the people who go to the gym are a unique brand of oddballs. They number, in the UK, around 10 million people out of a population of 70 million. They believe their way is the only way. That to be a super ripped muscly superhunk is not only preferable but ESSENTIAL.
I don’t know about you, but I’ve never looked at a man’s pecs and thought, ‘YES! Me likey!’ No, I stop and think, ‘Is that really worth sacrificing 10 pork pies a day?’ Because I’m not so sure it is…
Pumped for Crops, Shredded for Nothing
It wasn’t always this way, of course. Time was the only gym ancient people needed was a good old war. You didn’t have a choice. Do you think Ancient Roman boys dreamt of becoming singers? Standing in front of their bathroom mirrors singing into hairbrushes? Busking outside talent agency headquarters? Of course not! The second you turned 13, here’s a spear, go kill our enemies…
Getting shredded for these Ancient Romans was a necessity so they went out onto the battlefield to get shredded by the enemy. War was a way of life. So ancient people poured hours and hours into working out. Think of a Rocky training montage but instead of deadlifting weights, they deadlifted sheep.
Boom! Next thing you know, we have the Olympics. Rippling hunks of beef pondering about all naked. No wonder they were well-attended. 50,000 people turned up to watch the likes of Leonidas. You can now see a statue of him in Greece. Oh, yes. He is naked. Poor guy.
Athletes competed in sports based on practical skills that were of use later in battles. Like sheep tossing. “OH NO, THEY’RE THROWING SHEEP!” These naked hunks were the original influencers. Everyone wanted to be like them. Physical beauty meant everything to them. Giving birth to the notion of being shallow. Because looking good does not matter.
I know, I’m wondering about it, too. You see Leonidas was running around with his wedding vegetables hanging out. Then you see him at the local tavern and he hits on you. And you’re trying not to be shallow, but you’re like, “I’ve already seen it and I’m not impressed, sorry!” I tell you what, he was a lucky man. Because whoever he ended up with only cared about his personality. Admittedly, Leonidas married his niece and fathered a son with her, but that’s another matter…
No to Abs! Yes to Plague!
Leonidas knew the value of personality. That being ripped was not all there is to life. It’s not who you know but what you know, although in his case when it came to finding a wife, it WAS who you know, but that’s not important.
By the Dark Ages, people had well and truly given up on the abs. After all, this was the age of the plague. Barbarian invasions. The dramatic rise and fall of empires and kingdoms. And those pesky Christians were popping up all over the place. Like Whac-A-Mole.
We don’t need to work out anymore! We need to survive. And get our affairs in order because let’s face facts here, we probably won’t be around for much longer. The good folk of the Dark Ages saw the body as sinful and unimportant. So where did it all go wrong?
Well, you have to blame one Vittorino da Feltre who encouraged physical education. This is when health became a fad. Like Tamagotchis. Or Pogs. People became obsessed with health. By the time the Industrial Revolution rocked up, people weren’t moving much anymore. They sat on their arses all day and toiled away with machines.
And so exercise was born. Getting fit became part of our society. At the time, Dudley Sargent said:
“Without solid physical education programs, people would become fat, deformed and clumsy.”
But what’s wrong with that exactly?
Where Everything Went Wrong
It’s one thing exercising but the 20th century took the fad to a frightening new level. The fitness industry boomed. Competitive sports became all the rage. And fitness gurus sprung up, sorta like hippies but somehow even more delusional…
Fitness magazines published. Fitness contests organised. Gyms! The gyms are everywhere! It was a nightmare for the flabby norms like me. Bodybuilders like Charles Atlas adorned the front cover of magazines in tight-binding leopard print underpants. It was all about FITNESS, FITNESS, FITNESS! Pump those guns! Work the iron! Look at you, maggot! Why don’t you look like a Greek god?! Sniff. I don’t want to! Oh, but saying ‘no’ to this lifestyle was unacceptable.
The world lost its mind around 1940. About the time the fitness belt was invented. A vibrating belt you strapped around a ‘problem area’, turned on and watched the fat ‘jiggle’ away. Parlours sprung up across our world where women could strap themselves to one of these machines to get fit. And have an incredible orgasm.
And that’s the thing with modern fitness. Because these vibrating belts were nonsense. They didn’t work. But everyone believed it. Hence why they flocked to parlours with names such as ‘Slenderalla’. Being thin and beautiful became all we are as a human race.
Fitness culture was here to stay. And it only got worse.
The Lost World of Common Sense
Eyes rolled as the world watched the rise of the modern fitness freaks. The world of ‘jazzercise’ bullshit which, at one point, earned its creator $40 million a year, only surpassed in revenue by Dominos. A much better franchise, you could say.
Jazzercise came and went, thankfully, replaced by other fads. The Step, anyone? A plastic step. On which you… stepped on. And stepped off. And stepped back on again. And so on. Tens of millions of people spent a lot of money on these plastic nightmares. And while cardio is good for you, buying the Step was the act of a lunatic.
Every decade brought about a new era of humanity’s stupid fascination with exercise. The 1990s gave us parkour. Or, in other words, pretty boys leaping from roofs in a pathetically desperate attempt to get laid. Ah, yes. That’s what turns the ladies on. Shattered ankles…
The 2000s gave us dog yoga, which scientists have now proven is absolute horseshit. And are we forgetting 2009’s Shake Weight? A dumbbell that oscillates in your hand due to springs attached to the weights. Or, in other words, a great way to look like you’re masturbating a robot.
It’s all pseudo-science, isn’t it? Shake Weights have no health benefits. But people kept flocking to them! The same goes for mermaid swimming. Goat yoga. Competitive unicycling. And cycle karaoke. People think these fads are fun and exciting but they’re not. They completely miss the point.
Do you think people who do goat yoga ever stop to consider where their lives have gone wrong? Who wants a goat to nuzzle them? Is goat yoga any different to the vibrating belt? Well, I guess only one of those makes you orgasm.
And I hope it’s not the goat.
The Selfie Age
There are two kinds of exercise. The essential and the gimmicky. Unfortunately, most people prefer the second one. We are bombarded with ways to get into shape. More choice? No, no, no. TOO much choice. Most of it is NONSENSE!
That’s why everyone is so confused.
The smartphone age only made it worse. With fitness trackers and global leaderboards. Fitness has become a race. A race to be the best. To be better than everyone else. And I’m sick of it. It shouldn’t be this way. We are a culture oozing with get ‘shredded’ quick schemes. Magic pills. And ultra-competitive people spending every waking second in the gym. And it’s so annoying!
We don’t need to live in a world with rippling superhunks. They are nice to look at, sure, but every single gym-goer on this planet is HELL-BENT on shaming and putting down every person who doesn’t bother. And honestly?
I would rather walk into a volcano than go to a gym.
Relishing in the Love of Sweet Lazitude
Exercise is pointless.
And I know what you’re thinking, reader. Huh? Don’t we need to exercise? Oh, sure. Ask any doctor and they’ll agree. Cardio, good diet, that’s it. That’s all you need. How you achieve your cardio is up to you. But a nice walk or 20 minutes a day on the exercise bike is all you need. So why do we live in a world where I have to stand in a bus queue with a bunch of teenage lads behind me swinging their collective gym dicks around in my face?
Oh yeah, I’m going to the gym today. Oh, wicked, what are you doing? Oh, going to work on my legs, need some fat muscle on them, like! Oh, great! I’m going to work on my pecs! Oh, that’s awesome! I’m going to work on my biceps – show them bad boys off!
Oh, Jesus. Shut the hell up. Do you know why people work on their muscles? To get laid. That’s it. No other reason. And that’s all a gym is good for. Toning your rad bod to show off to the world just how awesome you think you are. My flat tum. My rippling biceps. My pecs that can dance. Got to get myself on those leaderboards. GOT TO SHOW THE WORLD I AM THE BEST OF HUMANITY! HEAR ME ROAR! RAAAAR!
Oh, give me strength. It don’t impress me much.
If that turns you on, there is something wrong with you. Like, seriously, seriously wrong. There’s nothing wrong with being healthy but why is it a competition? You can smell the testosterone. Look at me, for example.
I don’t exercise. I do a bit of yoga and I walk a lot. I don’t have a 100 per cent brilliant diet, but I eat well most of the time. I have a pot belly. I’ve come to terms with my pot belly. I’ve come to terms with the fact I will never look like a Greek god. My hair is thinning away. My skin is awful. I am hideous to look at. And giving me pecs will look terrible. Like putting lipstick on a dog.
It’s my choice. And you might say, “Well, I go to the gym 50 times a week and I look amazing and I will always be a better person than you.” Because gym-goers are often arrogant. And you’re not. Because I had a health checkup recently, a man who eats several burgers a week and you know what? I’m perfectly healthy. No problems whatsoever.
So you can look and live like me and be healthy. You don’t NEED to go to the gym. You don’t NEED to be the perfect human. You don’t NEED to compete with everyone else. Calm the hell down. We need to go back to the age when exercise wasn’t the be-all-and-end-all. When we didn’t feel compelled to exercise with a GOAT. An actual goat!
Fads will come and go but there is one undeniable fact. Good cardio plus a good diet equals a healthy you. I don’t care about your guns. Also, stop calling them ‘guns’.
This world of obsessive, toxic masculinity, muscle-bound, gym-aficionados MUST stop because it is not sexy. Strom Thurmond knew that when police questioned him for jogging, because that’s all you need. Now, I’m not saying ‘let’s emulate Strom’ because that man was a colossal twat, but the jogging bit of his life, yeah, go for it…
“All truly great ideas are conceived while walking.”
– Friedrich Nietzsche (thought man).
Peace Out :|:
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The Indelible Life of Me 
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