A Fistful of Carrots

"Yo, IronMan, come over here for a second and check this thing out."

I'm holding Bubbles latest Affront to God in my trembling hands, confident IronMan has my back, he'll get this sorted out for me. Bubbles is standing slightly off to my right with this bored, "Who's the trainer here?" look on her face.

"Is this even allowed under the Geneva Convention?" I ask as IronMan snatches the sheet of paper from my quivering hand. He scans it impassively, but with the same innate depth of clarity that allowed him to immediately spot a six inch by six inch section of the basketball court that they missed when re-varnishing it.

He hands it back to me while looking at Bubbles and saying, "It's not enough, he needs more!"

Bubbles rolls her eyes, glad this whining formality is over with and leads me off to the bikes while I'm despondently shuffling behind her thinking, "Bastard! If I was at gitmo and this was leaked I'd be the New York Times 'front page' boy for at least a week while enraged Senators fired up The Big Investigation!"

I'll spit out what Bubbles (who, in all fairness, might be going through some hormone imbalance due to her pregnancy so I just naturally irritate her because I happen to be in the room and she decided to express it with this new routine - bad timing on my part - look I'm just sayin') has done to me but let me make this abundantly clear. She put some real thought into this one, and my muscles will be very confused - long time.

I'm gonna start on Monday with this. At the 20,000 foot level it looks like this for the first month.

Bill's Orchestra of Pain
by Bubbles

• Monday: Cardio - Hellish Intervals for thirty minutes - Nightmare ABS
• Tuesday: Wrecking Bill in BOSU B-Flat
• Wednesday: Cardio - Hellish Tempo for twenty minutes - Nightmare ABS
• Thursday: Crushing Bill in C-Minor
• Friday: Cardio - Hellish Intervals for thirty minutes - Nightmare ABS

I'll go into more detail as my understanding grows but I ask you, no I beg you to write Bubbles telling her of the kind Bill, the pudgy unable to resist cake or ice cream Bill that if you look into your heart you know you love. You love me. Admit it.

sigh

Maybe I should rethink that plea for help from you heartless fiends.

Meanwhile I've scanned the list of things to do to appease Bubbles on my way to a new me and I've already forgotten about half of them. I should be able to enjoy this routine for a good long while! YAY! OH YAAAAAYYYYYYYY!

On the diet front things are not looking too good. I am so sick of carrots! I'm beginning to feel like a mutant Mister Ed I've been cramming so many of them in my mouth.

And you know what?

They don't help! Nope! Not one little bit. Sure I feel less physically hungry but the craving, the want, the neeeeeeed for that Super Fruits ice cream in the freezer burns ever brighter. Until... until I'm cramming as much of it as I can into a cake cone (Bill despises cleaning dishes) while convincing myself that it's "two scoops."

mmhmm

Two scoops, no doubt about it. Maybe one and a half but nowhere near three.

This is generally followed by another fistful of carrots in some misguided attempt at atoning which is just gross sitting on top of that ice cream.

Yep yep The Bill Diet definitely needs some fine tuning.

As always, my thighs burn for you.