Jesus, Help Me Bowl!

Over the weekend, I was out on Long Island (Mineola) for a frat brother's 40th birthday party. His wife had it at a bowling alley in an effort to make the event as kid friendly as possible. They have a beautiful 18-month old boy who is going to be killing the ladies probably as soon as he can walk for more than twenty feet.

Still childless because our kids are still on vacation with relatives, the wife and I got there before most of the folks showed up and got in a quick practice game. Of course I went to find the heaviest ball I could find remembering my earlier days of combining brute strength with a twelve-pound ball to slaughter pins.

On my first roll, it felt like the ball was going to take me down the lane with it. I think I knocked down one pin. My wife got a few strikes and was doing the cabbage patch the running man and all kind of annoying acrobatics each time she left the lane. By the end of our game I hadn't even managed to break 100 points.

And all the women in attendance were laughing at me. I remember hearing, "Eric, she's kicking your ass."

She was. But it was just a warm up. I knew she wasn't going to last.

As more people (men) flooded in we got a larger group in our lane and I turned on the sauce, leaving my wife in the dust and going head to head with an old friend. The kids were in one lane bowling looking as precious as ever. There was a party going on in the lane beside me, everyone was screaming whether it was a strike or a gutter ball. By the end of the game I was on fire, ready for the next one.

My wife lost interest, preferring to talk with the women about houses, jobs and everything else I don't like to talk about in the heat of competition. She also got her hands on a baby and kept looking over at me. The look I gave her said, "Look away and put that baby down."

My frat brother and I were going head to head with strikes and spares in that third game until about the 5th frame when I began to feel something in my elbow...

...then my wrist...

...then my right knee...

...then my left knee...

...then my lower back...

"Am I getting old, Lord? Jesus are you there?" I asked in quiet desperation as I began to develop a limp over the rest of the game. I won, but neither me nor my fraternity brother finished strong. We were happy to stop to sing Happy Birthday and cut cake. I told him if I had known I was going to get old during the past three years I hadn't worked out I wouldn't have ever stopped. He laughed, then agreed solemnly.

I was happy to wake up the next day, neither stiff nor sore. I'm getting back in shape, but I'm not there yet.

Work it out, y'all. Here are some foods that help you lose fat.



Photo Source: Flickr

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