Sunday, February 15, 2009

A WiiFit State of Mind

I Can't Stand Up for Falling Down - Elvis Costello (mp3)
I Don't Wanna - The Von Bondies (mp3)

Forthwith is an assortment of thoughts inspired during or in the aftermath of my WiiFit workouts.

--- As Sheriff Buford T. Justice would say, Ain't no way, nooooo way, I can do the Super Hula Hoop (get a picture of that!) exercise routine for five minutes rotating my hips clockwise and another five minutes rotating my hips counterclockwise, without thinking, "I wonder if this helps my sexual endurance." Looking at all the pretty colors on the TV screen and the goofy avatars does nothing to cure this mindset. And with each successive workout, my circles are looking more and more like ovals because I'm thrusting my hips forward and backward much more than side to side. But by God I'm a "Calorie Burner," and that means something!

--- I mocked the yoga exercises, and I shrugged indifferently at the high stress WiiFit places on "core" muscles, but there's no question my posture has improved and that my back, long a particular area of weakness, is getting stronger. My balance, while never too shameful, has improved fairly drastically. And I'm almost capable of imagining myself with stomach muscles!

--- As mentioned on a previous Facebook status update, there's no way I will ever admit vocally that I regularly and willfully place myself in the Downward-Facing Dog pose (get a picture of that!). I can write it; but can't say it out loud without resorting to an eye-roll or giggling like a child. That I regularly score a 99/100 on this particular exercise is even more reason to not go talking about it. ("You sure are mighty skilled at throwing your ass into the air, Billy!")

--- Lunges, even without weights, make me feel like a total girly-man. Even after eight or nine successful times at 20 reps per leg, I still have to fight and claw to get through it. And after I'm done, I walk around for 15-20 minutes like Roy frakkin' Rogers after his first whole day riding Trigger and getting along his little doggies on the plain.

--- I find nothing remotely redeemable about the step exercises on a board three inches above the ground, and less redeemable about jogging in place. To those who can enjoy either, bully for you. That I can somehow justify swiveling my hips in large ovals for 10 minutes whilst imagining I'm keeping five hula hoops going around me at mach speeds (and simulating some bizarre sex act, apparently) while thumbing my nose at any other activity on the planet is merely proof of humanity's love affair with hypocrisy. But I can do 1,800 rotations in 10 minutes and am going for 2,000, dammit! I've got dreams!!

--- Once every three or four days, I'll start my workout, and the male trainer (get a picture of that!) pops in and tells you he's filling in today for the female trainer. Apparently this is to keep you from getting too attached to a trainer. Or maybe these characters get sick or have personal problems. Maybe my female trainer had an illness in the family, or maybe she was depressed and refused to get out of bed that day, or maybe she choked on a granola bar or something. All I know is that the male trainer has this little bitty pig tail sticking out of the back of his head, and seeing it makes me realize that even I have yet to hit rock bottom when it comes to fashion sense and personal grooming.

--- A friend of ours got a WiiFit, and her husband, who has himself a modestly-sized pot-belly, hopped on for the initial Body Test. It labeled him a hair's breadth away from OBESE and right at the top of the OVERWEIGHT category. He stepped down, turned the TV off, and walked out of the house. He now refuses to stay in the room when his wife is using it. Apparently there are some things a computer game was never meant to have the right to tell you, and labeling you a fat ass is one of them. No one needs to pay close to $100 just to be called labeled "obese" unless they're into techno-masochism.

--- On more than one occasion, I've wondered what my female trainer's name is.

--- On two separate occasions, I found myself wondering what kind of alcoholic beverage she might like, and where she would hang out if she lived in Chattanooga. (get a picture of that!)

--- On one occasion, I even left my hotel key on the console just to see if she'd pick it up and meet me.

--- I found a note, unsigned, on the console the next morning that read: "I'm just not that into you. But keep working on your hula hoop motion, and we'll talk." I'm not sure if she's just trying to find a way to motivate me or if she means it.

--- Frequent reader and emotional support John showed me this WiiFit parody the other day. It's funny as hell regardless of whether you've ever stepped on a WiiFit board.



Yes, I'm kidding about everything about my female trainer other than wondering what her name is. If you know any video game programmers, then you damn well know they named that woman.

5 comments:

jed said...

what a great video! i've been trying to get my family inside for years.

Billy Bob said...

Where did this post go? It was here last Friday, and then it was gone, and now it's back. And, somehow, Jed's comment is still here.

All I know is this: I've been working Call Of Duty on the Wii for weeks now, and not only do I feel fit, I feel like I've kicked the asses of both Tojo's Japanese Army and HItler's Wermacht!

Billy said...

Oh hell, it wasn't s'posed to go up until Tuesday. First time it went up, it didn't even have songs attached. Just these "Song Here" notes at the top of the thing.

But I guess the damn thing wants attention, 'cuz it refuses to stay hidden. My best theory involves that female trainer.

John said...

Billybob, I need to borrow your Call of Duty; it may be the one game that I can school my girls in since they kick my ass in pretty much everything else Wii.

Bob said...

I'm playing Call of Duty through again and getting my ass kicked against other people online.

Buy Resident Evil 4 and we'll trade.