I’m very passionate about health and fitness. Frankly, it’s disgusting. I hate myself; I especially hate my cellulite; I even hate birds, which is completely irrelevant to this post but good golly I just hate their stupid faces. You might ask, how can I consider myself healthy when those are clearly very unhealthy feelings? Good question, imaginary reader. It’s not that I’m unaware that fitness magazines are pieces of recycling tied together with string made from the tendons of free-range cows, regurgitating the same old stories every month. To keep things fresh, or at least not putrid, these sorry excuses for publications create faux controversy by asking this very important question: are all our logical, common-sensical thoughts on the long-discussed topic du jour completely misguided? Let’s investigate. Then, after some investigation supported by “experts” who have chosen careers dedicated to spotting and criticizing their masochistic clients’ physical imperfections, they all come to same conclusion: “Actually, it’s none of the above – the real answer is common sense! Who would have thought the solution was what we thought it was the whole time?” I love these twisted tomes and their malignant musings, so much so that I’ve composed my own fitness-style article for anyone who is thinking about developing this thrillingly dangerous and expensive health addiction just like I have. This will help you self-loathing novices understand the true spirit of health news and know what to expect from each month’s exorbitantly priced heap of fibrous glossy shit.

Happy Hour HIIT: A Do or a Don’t?

Here at Lose That Chub, we’re no strangers to fitness fads. Some are fabulous. Boutique fitness classes with Shakira? Sign this bitch up! Some fall flat. The nutritionists have spoken: a truckload of butter in your coffee is a one-way ticket to butt shelf land. But there’s one trend on the horizon we can’t help but propose a toast to: some experts are touting the effects of mid-boozing exercise.

Say it isn’t SoCo! Do you mean to tell us the secret to a slimmer waistline lies in our favourite plastered pastime? According to Los Angeles-based trainer Mimi Lee, fuck yeah, it does. “What people don’t realize is that we have massive, massive stores of energy that are best utilized while intoxicated, and we’re not tapping into that resource,” Miss Lee told us via Skype while she took her daily sauna. “People seem to equate martinis with sitting on the couch, chatting with your girlfriends. What we need to do is make happy hour synonymous with planks and lunges.”

Lee, who herself subsists on a strict diet of vodka soda and vitamin supplements, suggests starting off slow. “Many people often go out dancing in clubs, and there’s a lot of alcohol involved in that,” she says. “It just goes to show that there is a natural impulse to combine exercise and blackout intoxication, and many people are tuned into that, whether they’re conscious of it or not. The trick is to make it a conscious decision, so that every time you drink, you take advantage of the opportunity to burn far more calories than you normally would without the added benefit of alcohol in your bloodstream.”

Say what? Burn more calories while drinking than you would while doing the exact same exercises sober? Dear God, can this be real?

Absolutely, says Lee, who, freshly showered and seated on her sofa, has been stroking a cat that we are increasingly beginning to suspect may be dead and taxidermied, and not sleeping as previously thought. “In fact, the science shows that a test group of women burned three times as many calories and exhibited 50% more endurance than a control group who engaged in the same exercise at the same intensity over a month-long period. It’s a game-changing discovery.”

I’ll say, as I try not to spill red wine all over my keyboard. (Rest assured, dear reader, I took a break while composing this to make the most of my tipsy fat-burning powers. It was a little harder than normal to get into a headstand. In fact, my wardrobe mirror appears to be broken, and my right foot is bleeding. But my thighs will thank me tomorrow.) Can the secret to less frequent but highly effective exercise truly be so tempting?

Absolutely not, says every doctor I’ve ever spoken to. It turns out that having a considerable fitness following is not particularly meaningful if the trainer in question lives in LA. This, combined with the discovery that Lee’s nutrition “degree” came from the same institution that awarded an identical degree to a fellow journalist’s dead cat for the bargain price of $50, leads Lose That Chub to the sad conclusion that boozercize might not be all its cracked up to be. In fact, 1 out of 1 proper scientists surveyed insisted that calorie burn is not increased by alcohol in the bloodstream. “Your body uses glucose during exercise to sustain itself,” explains Mr. Scientist, appearing increasingly distressed at the news of this gorgeous new fitness concept. “Glucose is, of course, stored in your liver – which is the same place alcohol is metabolized. This is simply a terrible, terrible idea. If anything, intoxication inhibits the potential benefits of exercise – it doesn’t enhance them.”

So, was it really worthwhile to squeeze in a workout between your third and fourth martini? No, it wasn’t. But don’t fret. Just go back to exactly what you were doing before you heard about this insane notion. I’m off to investigate the latest weight loss craze: bloodletting. Til next time, fitness fans!