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Bruce Lee Meets His Match

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Way back when we were dating, The Princess and I started this “thing”. It was a kind of goofy joke between the two of us, actually. We would do “pretend” karate on each other. In slow motion.

We’d make Bruce Lee faces and sounds and we’d do punches to the face, tummy and groin. We’d do kicks, chops and head-butts. Nothing actually connected with anything, and no one got hurt. We’d just laugh and try not to pee ourselves in the process.

Once, we even did it while we had company over for dinner. I opened the refrigerator door and accidentally bopped The Princess with it. She, in her dinner dress and heels, proceeded to “chop” me in the throat. I countered with a swift “kick” to the head. All of this complete with Bruce Lee faces and sounds. Our guests watched, too stunned to speak and not too sure if we were for real. Or just insane.

Last month, The Princess was all excited over this VHS tape she’d bought over at Target. It was an exercise tape with some goofy-looking chick on the cover. This chick had a big smile and looked like she was marching or something. I was not impressed.

“You’ve got to try this with me! It’s a great workout.” The Princess twittered as she scooted up the stairs with her new tape.

“What kind of workout? I don’t do those stupid step things — or fake kickboxing.” I screamed up after her.

“It’s walking!” She answered from upstairs.

Walking? Why the hell would we need a VHS tape to help us walk for exercise? We do it every day on the trails (when they’re not flooded) or through our neighborhood… I declined the invitation.

I could hear stomping upstairs and the muffled sounds of aerobic-inspired music. I resisted the temptation to go up and see what this “walking” tape was about. How can you walk around in your room? How stupid is that?

The next day, The Princess shot out of the house and zoomed on over again to Target.

“I’ve got to get the other tape!” She exclaimed. “It’s an even farther distance, and a harder workout.” She took off.

Farther distance? Harder workout? I went upstairs and looked around our bedroom. Nope. No hidden tunnels or running tracks. Still the same ‘ol room. I waited for The Princess to return. I was going to try this new tape with her.

When she returned, I was all dressed-out for my walk with the VHS tape. The Princess plopped the tape down and got herself ready. Here’s what she did:

1. Turn thermostat off.
2. Go upstairs to master bedroom, close door.
3. Open window in master bedroom.
4. Close bathroom door in master bedroom.
5. Wrap cling-wrap around midsection.
6. Get dressed-out for major workout.
7. Stand with hands on hips wondering what the hell I was waiting for.

I smiled, and nodded toward the VHS deck. She opened the new tape’s package, and put the tape in. She turned on the TV, changed it to channel 3 and hit “Play”. She placed herself on one side of the bed and motioned for me to go and stand on the other.

“Walk Away The Pounds” started to play. It was the “3 Mile Fat Burning” workout. Yeah, right. The goofy chick on the tape cover came out, yakking away. She had about ten other people behind her, all different ages and shapes. They were marching away to music.

The Princess gave me “The Look”, so I started marching along with them. How stupid did I feel? Quite, thank you.

The chick’s name was Leslie. Leslie continued yakking away while we marched to the music. Then, Leslie barked some command, and we all started doing “side steps”. Kind of like speed skating without skates or ice… kind of.

Back to marching.
Now, front kicks.
Back to marching.
Now, knee raises.
Back to marching.
Now, back leg-lifts.
Back to marching.

Every now and then, a meter would appear on the bottom of the screen, telling us how far we’d “walked”. 2 miles already. I looked over at The Princess. She was lightly glowing and was enjoying this walk tremendously. I saw myself in the mirror over her dresser. I looked like a melting wax dummy. The sauna The Princess had created in our bedroom was causing every pore in my body to spit up.

I smiled weakly and gave The Princess the “Thumbs Up” signal from across the bed.

Leslie yelled, “It’s time! Go get your Walk Away The Pounds Weight Balls!” After a three second pause, she and the ten doofs were back. They all had a blue ball in each hand and of course, they were marching. These balls were weighted. They weighed two pounds each. I looked around. No blue balls here.

The Princess brought some two pound, padded hand weights up from the floor. She kicked mine over to me. Oh. Three pound ones. I can handle this. There’s only one more mile to “walk” anyway.

March with balls.
Now, kick with balls.
Back to marching with balls.
Now, DOUBLE side-steps with balls.
Back to marching, while lifting balls (weights) over head. Up, down. Up, down.
Now, knee raises while twisting and lifting balls to knee that is up.
(did I mention that in addition to weights, you need coordination and balance, too?)
Back to marching.
Now, side-steps with lateral arm raises.
Back to marching.

When we hit three miles, I threw my weights down and fell to the floor. Fuck the cool-down. I’m just going to pass out right here.

So anyway, I was originally talking about our “thing”, right? You know — the fake karate complete with Bruce Lee faces and sounds…

Last night, The Princess and I were cleaning up in the kitchen after dinner. For some reason, we started our “thing”. In the middle of it, I did the Karate Kid “Stork” stance. The Princess countered this amazing feat with a knee raise to the head — ala “Walk Away The Pounds” (WATP).

This meant war. I immediately went into WATP front kicks. She then did WATP side-steps and flitted across the kitchen, for a better location with which to continue our battle. I did the ultimate — the WATP DOUBLE side-steps. Complete with a “Ha!” as I shot my feet from side-to side two times each way. She was impressed and completely taken aback.

Then, it happened. With all this athletic prowess being displayed, I had forgotten I was wearing my house slippers. Upon the completion of the first set of double side-steps to the right, I began my journey back to the left. My right foot stomped down and embedded itself into my left slipper. This caused the obvious reaction of my left foot not being able to lift itself up.

Of course, with my inherent, cell-deep, instinctive uncoordination, I fell quite beautifully and loudly (smack!) on the ceramic tile floor. With my right foot still firmly lodged in my left slipper.

The Princess wet herself. I think I broke my wrist. There’s also a pretty, colorful bruise on my back where it met with the corner of a kitchen cabinet.

I am convinced Leslie is the devil incarnate.

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