You’ve tried everything to get in shape: the Shake Weight, BowFlex, FlexBelt, 8 Minute Abs, NordicTrack, P90X (or maybe P12X), Total Gym—and still, you somehow don’t have an ass that people can bounce quarters off.
Maybe you’re not eating right. Maybe you’re not doing the workouts with enough intensity. Maybe you’re confused because magazines tell you to do something different with your training and nutrition every single issue.
OR MAYBE ALL THOSE OTHER WORKOUTS ARE BULLSHIT.
You need a fitness plan that works. Something that will shock your body into the type of fitness that can only be brought about by tricking it into thinking it’s the only way to survive.
Not something you can squeeze in with a few minutes a day, in between pulling pans of cookies out of the oven, or in between typing e-mails. You need something closer to what your ancestors were doing while they were inventing the original Paleo Diet—which they didn’t call “the Paleo Diet.” They called it “Hey I’m Going To Go Get Some Food So All Of Us Don’t Die.” And it required lots of walking and carrying things, which burned a lot more calories than sitting at a desk doing whatever it is we do for 50 hours a week so we can pay for a roof and walls and a six-foot-wide TV with infinity colors or pixels or whatever.
Do you need all sorts of new equipment, like a heavy club, a spear, and a loincloth made out of the hide of a saber-toothed tiger? Hell no. This workout requires one piece of equipment, and it doesn’t even have to be new or comfortable: A backpack.
It does not cost $1,800, and Chuck Norris and Christie Brinkley will not tell you about it at 1:30 a.m. while you’re eating Cheetos on your couch. Its title was not created by a team of brilliant marketers, or even really considered that carefully. But it will chisel you down into being LESS FAT THAN BEFORE YOU STARTED.
So, how does it work?
Step 1: Get a huge backpack
Step 2: Put a bunch of shit in that backpack
Step 3: Put the heavy backpack on your back
Step 4: Go for a walk you can measure in “miles” or “days”
Your feet will hurt. Your hips and shoulders might hurt. You may experience chafing. You may put photos of yourself doing the Heavy Backpack Workout on Instagram with little inspirational quotes underneath your photo. You may create a hashtag in order to create a sense of community around what you are doing, and encourage others to do the same. After your workout, you may return to civilization and cancel out all your efforts by eating 2,000 calories of bacon cheeseburgers, beer, and milkshakes in one sitting. The important thing is that you keep going out and doing it. Is it getting colder outside? Wear a jacket. Too much snow on the ground? Get a pair of skis or snowshoes. Or posthole—it burns more calories.
What phone number do you have to call to find out more about this incredible, game-changing workout? What website do you need to visit for more information? Where can you enter your credit card number to gain access to this revolution? The answer to all these questions is: NONE. (and also “none,” and “nowhere,” respectively).
Just review steps 1-4 from above and get off your ass and do it. Did you forget the 4 steps already? Maybe you would like them in a more brief, easily Tweet-able form? Here you go:
get backpack, fill with stuff, put on back, go walk, #heavybackpackworkout
More stories like this in my new book, Bears Don’t Care About Your Problems, out now.