I would now like to make a public statement. Two, in fact. One more important than the other by a significant margin, but both still VERY important, VERY interesting.

I will start with the one of lesser importance—but lesser, mind you, only to the announcement which is to follow very closely behind it. This is not to imply that the impending announcement is by any accounts trivial or wholly uninteresting. No, in my view it still stands by itself a colossus—a St. Bernard, if you will—and only when it is seated adjacent to the subsequent announcement—say, a Bull Mastiff—does it bare the resemblance of a runty and puny and feeble sort of thing.

I have recently signed a book deal with Wiley and Sons, to furnish a “For Dummies” book. Take “For Dummies” for what it is and nothing more: a two-cent marketing ploy. This book is for folks who have been to school, I assure you.

The title, at present, will read “Paleo Fitness for Dummies”. As we approximate the release date, this is certainly subject to change, and I’m doubtless it will. But maybe it won’t. What will remain the same, however, is the substance of the thing—the essence of “Paleo Fitness.”

What has delighted me the most is the whole opportunity of it all. “Paleo Fitness” is a concept right now that can only be described as opaque. My intent is to defog it, to define it to the finest detail. While my interpretation of it is solely my own, it is a vivid one, and ultimately, one that will surely profit the masses.

If you’re willing to hear it, I’d like to tell you a little more. Please get comfortable.

Paleo fitness to me is fitness minimalism, nothing excessive, barren. It is a reversion to the fundamentals, dedicated in whole to beautiful human movement, vibrant health, and, of course, looking good. Its general air is back to basics, but at the very same time, there are frequent gusts of ingenuity—if I may be so immodest.

The thesis (and I quote myself):

“Any exercise program will improve in direct proportion to the number of things that can be left of out it that needn’t be there.”

Said another way:

“The secret to a good exercise program is to strip it down to the fewest possible parts—the fundamentals, if you will—and to leave it at that.”

This is what the book is about, keeping things uncluttered and thin. But this is not a thin book, not at all. Explaining minimalism apparently demands what is very near the maximum number of words any one book, save the Bible, can possibly hold between its two covers. The estimate, right now, is a 350-400 page behemoth. This is a tiring endeavor. But an enjoyable one. 

And luckily, I have help, from the lovely Dr. Kellyann Petrucci, the most wonderful co-author any one man could ever ask for. Dr. Kellyann, in case you didn't know, recently wrote Living Paleo for Dummies and Boosting Immunity for Dummies. Both of these works are tremendous, honestly two of the best Dummies books I've ever read.

A few more details…

The tentative release date is fall. But before then I will have acquired a bundle of advanced copies for giveaways. Naturally, I will give as many away to all of you on here as I possibly can. Naturally, I’d still mean a great deal to me if you ventured down to your local bookstore and bought a copy.

This book will feature programming drawn out to the farthest possible extent. That is, there will be programing for both beginning practitioners and advanced, there will be programming for those who wish to put on size, and programming for those who wish to take some off. There will be programming for the elderly, programming for the pregnant, and programming for the athlete. There is not a single population forgotten by this book. This is a strength training book. This is a metabolic training book. This is a fitness book. And this is a health book.

Inside you will find a breakdown of all the fundamental human movements, progressions towards what some would call “advanced movements”, as well as correctives and remedial drills to restore your movement to the highest achievable quality.

Yes, there will be swings, squats, presses, pull ups, one arm push-ups, hanging leg raises, snatches, pistol squats, sprints, crawling, Turkish get up, lunges, rack holds, farmer carries, chin ups, inversions, rolling, one arm one leg push-ups, L-sits, planks, and everything of the like. It’s all in there. Everything worthwhile, anyways.

I am excited to write this book for you.  And I hope someday “Paleo Fitness for Dummies” sits readily on your shelf—somewhere between the works of Euclid and Socrates.

There it is folks. The seed has taken, and I have since become a contended slave to the processes of its ultimate manifestation. I kid, of course. The whole pregnancy thing has proven to be ever so fascinating, the machinery of it all, wholly unpredictable, variable to extremes, and at times viciously temperamental. I’m sitting here eating Paleo chili, by the way.

Her High Exaltedness Christine Suzan comes down with a new ailment seemingly on the hour—the end effect invariably the same: a whirl of violence at either one of two ends of the human anatomy. On two venerable occasions, however, both ends exploded the very same time*! I will describe this you no further. But the tales, I tell you, are all very true.

*It would be to my direct physical benefit if none of you shared this post on a public domain larger than the one we have here, or any place where Christine may be likely sniff it out. I say sniff it out, because since having been confirmed pregnant she’s come about a rather peculiar and frighteningly magnified sense of smell. I wager that she could smell out a mole before a trained terrier even caught the faintest wind of it, while congested, and at twice the distant.

What a spectacle it has been thus far! Nevertheless, I am thrilled. Electrified! Me, a daddy! Can you believe it?

Today is a very good day. The sun beams are booming in through the curtains, I’m having a baby, and Lola pooped twice already.

Done talking.

The secret to abs is that there is no secret to be found anywhere at all. Great abs, which I liken to the big, blocky variety (for the fellas, naturally—let us go with delicately trimmed for the ladies) are the results of (1) a low enough body fat percentage and (2) an amply muscled midsection. In other words, great abs are chiefly a function of the following inputs (1) caloric restraint, (2) metabolic efforts, (3) heavy ab work.

And here again rolls in the same old chestnut. But I welcome it warmly, as I do all truths, no matter how cold.

Because here’s the thing, really. If you want to rise above average then you must be willing to do the things the common stock are not, able enough to do them, and unapologetically industrious in your doing of them. Anything else invariably results in a reversion to the mean. And only the losers have a central tendency. 

Entering the gym, I chugged behind some brute like a loose caboose. After a few clicks I detached and glided over to the kettlebell rack to work what sits a few scoops below.  

There I performed the fundamental pre-workout ritual of any narcissistic human being: to look hard into the mirror until utterly exhausted of the subject matter—this activity, you should know, averages 7 minutes. Afterwards, and only afterwards, do I find myself in a state favorable for bodily exercise.