About four months ago I surrendered to the bally's hype. Now while you may wonder why someone who can lift 40% of his body weight would pander to such frivolities, I have unfortunately arrived at an impass. My physical state has reached a point where I have actually considered returning to my college ways when my vegetable-free diet and weeklong periods of inactivity proffered the physique of a Nigerian marathoner. The responsible routine I sport today rewards me with ill-fitting clothes and beleaguered groans when I heft my body out of anything not plastic or wood.

So the universal question remains ... should a married with kids guy care about what he looks like. Well, if that married with kids guy treats physical vanity like a religion, then hell yes he should care. So I sacrifice three lunches a week to go and look awkward and out of place in a facility geared towards singles, week-end warriors and people responding to doctor's orders. If I play my cards right, I just may spend the remainder of my life not fitting into the world around me or my store-bought khakis.