I love my quadriceps. They are strong, tight, sexy. They’ve got their act together. My inner thighs, however, are what we call freeloaders. They don’t work, but they sure do eat of the bounty. They suck the fat from everything I eat and expend no energy to burn it off. They are greedy, lazy, and quite frankly, disruptive.
So I’ve decided to wage war against my inner thighs. But how?
There has been lots of advice given about war.
Well, that’s great. Just when I’m ready to get dirty and pick up my fat burner, this guy tells me to avoid confrontation. Okay, fine, I’m a good student, so I’ll play along.
Step One. Stretching
While laying in bed, I start innocently stretching my body. It’s something that I’ve been doing a lot of recently, so my thighs won’t suspect a thing. After a few rounds of stretching my legs, I start doing some subtle side-laying leg raises. Thighs still don’t suspect. If I can just work them out extra without their knowledge, then all confrontation will be avoided, and I will have my victory.
Suddenly, I stop. The burning sensation has woken them up. They are on to me. I abort mission until another day. This sneaking around is bound to get tiresome.
“All warfare is based on deception. Hence, when we are able to attack, we must seem unable; when using our forces, we must appear inactive; when we are near, we must make the enemy believe we are far away; when far away, we must make him believe we are near.” Sun Tzi
So this is very clear. Use deception. I should let my inner thighs think that I don’t know what I’m doing when, in fact…. Actually, I really don’t know what I’m doing.
Okay, so maybe I should pretend that I know what I’m doing when, really, I have no clue. Sigh. That doesn’t seem right either.
Maybe quotes aren’t giving me enough strategy. Maybe I should pull out the big guns.
Now some of you now are laughing at me. You think I’m being silly; blowing things out of proportion; in need of a self-esteem boost. I assure you that none of those things are true.
But what is true is that my inner thighs have been waging a war against me for some time. They want to make me look foolish. They also want attention for themselves. How?
They rub against each other with the intention of causing a fire. Maybe they love the smell of fat sizzling, I don’t know. I’m not a thigh afterall.
They make my shorts rise up in the center because they’d rather they be seen then my pants.
I’ve discovered recently that my ass has been paying them in butter to jiggle as much as possible. This, in turn, causes my ass to jiggle. This, in turn, gets my ass noticed. This is not me here, guys, this is my ass and thighs using me like a good-for-nothing. I’m considering an investigation into mouth. She seems very tight-lipped about the whole thing.
Three makes a conspiracy. This is what I’m dealing with.
Back to The Art of War. It’s broken up into 13 chapters, but as Einstein, that genius, said, “If you can’t explain it simply, you don’t know it well enough.” So, I’m sure Sun Tzu won’t mind if I taper it down a bit. Here’s what we need to know.
Chapter One. Laying Plans
I plan to annihilate them over the course of two months. For good. Or until I’m older because age deserves a bit more fat.
Chapter Four. Tactical Dispositions
My tactic is to keep the rest of my body feeling happy and healthy during the period of time that I will be annihilating my inner thighs. The Art of War teaches us that it is of utmost importance that the disposition of the parts are the same in all the members. If every other body part is feeling good, then they’ll cooperate with me and make my work easier. I will appreciate them for their hard work in bodybuilding.
Chapter Six. Weak Points and Strong.
In this trifecta of rebellion, I know that my ass is the weak link. You see, she’s trying to play it tough now, but a week of jump squats and kickbacks will have her feeling perky and ready to conquer. She’s just going through a phase. She got caught up in the thrill of laziness. I’ll give her a good reminder of what it’s like on the other side. The strengths of my enemy are the impressive determination of my inner thighs to stay useless and the immense love that I have for food. Mouth has been quietly using that against me for years.
But I have a plan. The weakness of my thighs is carbs. They will do almost anything for them. I’ve been quite ashamed of how far they’d go for a warm baguette. Honestly, it’s not the way I raised them. But here it is. I will promise carbs, only if they are willing to train like Spartans. See, when I work like that, I need more carbs for fuel. And when I work out that hard I am starving all the time. I need more food. This makes mouth happy. She simply won’t shut up when she’s hungry– until she gets quiet. Then things get scary.
Chapter Nine. The Army on the March.
A co-worker recently allowed me to use his bicycle rack for a few months, which is so exciting. Because of it, my movement has reached almost limitless possibilities. A ride by the beach? Sure. A ride through a quiet, shaded nature trail? Of course. A cruise through the park? Why not. My inner thighs aren’t going to see the cardio stick hit them until they are only a portion of their former selves.
Chapter Twelve. The Attack By Fire.
Two words. Pre-workout and music.
Chapter Thirteen. The Use of Spies.
So far, I’ve been able to recruit veggie burgers, sweet potatoes, beans, whole wheat pasta, peanut butter and water. Spaghetti squash and cauliflower should be coming around soon. Quinoa is demanding more time and flavoring, so I’m trying to meet his demands. These foods will have a positive effect without alerting my thighs that they are working for me.
Remember that this has been told to you in secret. This is war.