The Big Weigh-In

My friend Lonnie, from New Boston, Iowa, often challenges me on weight. He and I are about the same weight, and both of us are exercise fanatics. He's more of a runner, while I avoid the pounding and resulting back pain by working out on the elliptical machine. Like most Americans in the land of plenty, we tend to be over weight if we let ourselves go. Lonnie has the advantage that he works at the Y in Keokuk as a life guard and has access to the pool, weights and exercise equipment.

Ginnie and I have our dedicated exercise room that has two treadmills and my elliptical machine. All I have to do is get up out of the recliner, which can be a chore, and walk to the exercise room. We have a television on the wall for listening to 24-hour news, classic rock, or movies — all of which aid in combating boredom while exercising. There are mirrors on the wall, an old-time balance scale for weighing, and photographs of Lonnie and me at various road races and triathlons. Lonnie and I are usually hamming it up by showing off muscles we don't have.

Anywho, we both, along with our wives, enjoy going to old-time, hippie, rock concerts. We went to see REO Speed Wagon and Styx in Des Moines, and, just recently, Three Dog Night in Ottumwa. Lonnie made sure we understood what a “three dog night” was. Gold miners in Alaska would huddle with their dogs for warmth on cold nights. If it was going to be real cold, they called it a “three-dog-night.”

For the last two concerts Lonnie has challenged me: “Whoever weighs the most has to buy dinner for the four of us before the concert.” For the REO concert, both Ginnie and I were recovering from COVID and I had lost a bunch of weight. I was in the high 170 lb range and Lonnie the 180's. He said I was cheating, like I had been purposely sick. But he begrudgingly bought dinner — fast food — big spender.

For the Three Dog Night concert, I had been gaining weight and Lonnie had me beat. However, he made a fatal mistake. Early on the morning of the concert, he text me, bragging that he was 186, and wanting to know how much I weighed. I hadn't exercised yet, so told him to hold his horses.

I always weigh myself before exercising. I tipped the scales at 192. Gulp. However, I know that I can burn off about 4.5 lbs in an hour of exercising on the elliptical. If I pushed it, and went for a two-hour workout, could I burn off enough to beat Lonnie?

Yes! I did a two-hour workout on the elliptical and tipped the scales at 183 lbs — a 9 lb drop. Wow! I had Ginnie take a picture of me on the scales with the camera focused on the numbers, and sent it to Lonnie. He said I was cheating again, and for me to “put my other foot on the scales.” I told him that I might be a liar, but he could trust Ginnie.

Once again, Lonnie begrudgingly conceded. However, at the restaurant, I forgot and tried to pay. Lonnie, with a gleam in his eye, was going to let me, but his wife, Gail, being honest, reminded Lonnie that he had lost the weight contest. Grrr.

At the Three Dog Night concert, the crowd was full of gray hairs, just like us. They even danced and the women screamed in front of the stage (a little disturbing). I asked if we looked like them. “Yep,” was the consensus. It's unsettling when you see an auditorium full of selfies.

Lonnie's next contest is, whoever reaches 179 lbs first, the other has to buy dinner. I did some quick calculations and figured if I did a three-hour workout, I could hit 179. However, the next morning after the Three Dog Night concert, because of dehydration from the two-hour workout, I drank so much liquid I ballooned to 194. Gulp again. I didn't tell Lonnie.

We're leaving on vacation for North Carolina. Ginnie has a cousin she hasn't seen in a coon's age. Vacations are hard on diets. We eat too much and exercising takes a back seat. Lonnie figures he'll run a marathon (26.2 miles) and reach 179 lbs first. Dang.

Women might be finicky about their weight, but men are fanatics! LOL.

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