Finding Nemo’s Abs Introduction: One man’s non-existent endeavour to get fit
What's Jesus' least favourite form of cardio exercise?
A: Pilates
When we were learning debating in school, we were told to always begin with a joke to warm up the audience. I don’t think the audience has ever really warmed up, as evidenced by the fact that, at most times, they’d shout back: “chup be, angrez” in response to the said joke.
Why are we here? Well, the evolution, of course. And the Big Bang. I mean, isn’t it amazing that after a random explosion and millennia of evolution which included gaining opposable thumbs and supremely big brains, we choose to spend our time making inane hand gestures on Tik Tok, pointing at a random text, and acting like imbeciles, incapable of rationality?
I can see your attention has started to dither, and my stream-of-consciousness approach can’t match maestros like James Joyce or Uorfi Javed, so I will get to the point.
Many moons ago, I was obese, like that kid Laddu (Hrithik Roshan) from Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gham. Sadly, I never turned into Hrithik Roshan, but I did manage to knock off 40 kilos (123 to 83) in nine months. In fact, that’s how I accidentally ended up in the media, a con that also included a Pink Floyd t-shirt.
But since then, life has encroached upon this non-existent fitness journey. Two years ago, when I moved to Delhi, I thought I would get things in order. But the extremely generous liquor rates and a gustatorily superior city (compared to Bombay, but then, that’s every city on the planet!) had sort of halted my aspirations.
I also realised, along the way, that not everyone is destined to be an underwear model, and lost all my motivation to lose weight (but not stop exercising). But just because my abs aren’t visible to the naked eye doesn’t mean they don’t exist – like electrons, protons, or the benefits of demonetization. So, what’s the point of getting rid of the excess fat around them? Is it to appear moderately more attractive to members of the opposite sex who say things like: “We’ll vibe if you are a feminist, anti-fascist, polyamorous, an intersectional eco-feminist, androsexual and kink friendly. You should not go out with me if you are a right-wing extremist, a left-wing economist, a Grammar Nazi, or liked Yeh Jawani Hai Diwani?”
Honestly, in Delhi at least, it’s easier to find someone who wants to shuttle between cocks than find someone who wants to play with a shuttlecock. I am, of course, talking about badminton.
My motivation is simpler. I want to eat and drink whatever I'd want. So, I decided that I’d exercise – which I do, hitting the gym seven days a week, clocking between 9-10k steps per day, and playing badminton.
So, what happens when you don’t watch what you eat but exercise a lot?
For starters, people keep saying: “You don’t look like you work out” ad nauseam, even those who start huffing and puffing after holding a badminton racket in an upright position for 30 seconds.
Firstly, your resting heart rate goes down significantly (mine has dropped by 10 points since May) when you regularly work out. For the uninitiated, having a low resting heart is good, it indicates a healthy heart and higher endurance. Secondly, you can lift much more, which makes you feel oddly elated as the endorphins kick in, meaning you can save on liquor costs to get the same high.
Thirdly, after a while, gym trainers lose interest and stop selling the idea of personal training to you since they know that you’re not going to jump on that bandwagon.
Fourthly, no matter what you eat (and drink), you don’t gain weight.
Anyway, earlier this year, I appeared in a podcast with Vinamre of Dostcast, which was, to be honest, a truly horrific footnote on the medium of cinema - my mug looks like the Rapist Number 2 from a Ramsay Brother movie. It was the second time I was on camera for a protracted time, the first being a Sunny Leone documentary directed by Dileep Mehta. One moment that I distinctly remember was the effusive host asking me about my Substack section titled “Finding Nemo’s Abs,” and noting that the section didn’t have a single article. Now I can abide by many, many denunciations, but one accusing me of not writing is a bit too hard to take, so henceforth expect a newsletter on fitness in your inbox. So here goes another newsletter from the Nonsensical Nemo stable.
The newsletter will try and answer some deep ontological questions like:
- Why do all Delhi gym bros look like they were designed in a lab by a Karthik Aaryan fan with a genetic predisposition for tattoos?
- Why does everyone in the gym insist on a fist bump?
- Is it hazardous to your social life to sing along to Jiye Tu Bihar Ke Lala in the gym?
- Are Crossfit bros the vegans of the fitness world?
- Why don’t Delhi girls sweat in gyms?
- Is it rude to say no to someone when they ask you to be an Instagram husband?
Hopefully, none of you learn anything from this newsletter.
Disclaimer: If you took fitness advice based on a column written by a guy who calls himself Nonsensical Nemo – that’s really on you.