To prevent saddlebags and other floppy parts, I'm joining a gym. Supposedly this gym has a fine selection of aerobic equipment and classes to keep my muscle memory on its toes. According to a representative of this particular gym, I'll never be bored, and within a couple of months, I'll look just like Paul Bunyan. To fit in, I'm going to buy a singlet, wrist weights, a solar powered skin hydrator, subscribe to a magazine dedicated to the art of pumping iron, and eat like a cavewoman (nuts, berries and rotting antelope). Let's get physical!
