Nathaniel approached his daily workouts
with the determination of a tyrant.
Deviations in his routine
were regarded as a sign of irresolve,
a perverse weakness.
He mounted the treadmill
as if stepping into a sacred river,
gingerly and expectantly.
As he began the rhythmic
pacing, he deftly lit up
a handrolled, illicit Havana
cigar, eyes watering pleasantly
as the exercise room began
to fill with its sweet smoke.
Placing the stogie on a silver tray attached
cleverly to the exercise machine,
he then enjoyed an enthusiastic swig
of Wild Turkey from a crystal
carafe kept within easy reach.
The liquor and the exertion
produced a vigorous sweat
on his bushy brow.
Setting the jug aside,
he then (as was his routine)
unwrapped his double-glazed doughnut,
which he had luckily pre-buttered
and dusted liberally with powdered sugar
and swallowed it down in just two bites
(a record for him) .
After a good 4 and ½ minutes,
(his normal workout limit) ,
Nathaniel switched off the machine,
enjoyed another swig and smoke,
then retired to the master bedroom
for a nice cozy nap.
When he woke up his wife asked him
how his workout had gone.
“I think I overdid it this time, my dear.
I’m afraid I’m becoming one of those
over-eager health enthusiastists.”