Many of us party people become anxious this time of year. We realize we are considerably overdue in shedding the winter cocoons that have shielded the results of months of unbridled feasting. Our bridles, it seems, have become two sizes too small.

Inevitably, the sun travels further north each day, the mercury rises and our clothing must become lighter and more revealing with fewer layers to hide our wintertime bulges.

We must accept this need for scantier garments if we want to enjoy our usual summertime activities. Can you imagine an Asbury Park lifeguard shouting into his bullhorn, “Hey you in the trenchcoat, don’t swim out so far!”

I’ve tried the one-week diets. That’s not their official name. It’s how long I’ve managed to stick with their starvation menus that deprive my body of vital nourishment from salami subs and everything pizzas.

Some experts suggest exercise is the answer for long term results. They say we must burn more calories than we eat to lose weight. I agree. I’ve always wanted to try weight lifting. The key is to start gradually and know your limitations. I’m following that regimen now. For two weeks I’ve been pumping aluminum and hope I can soon advance to stainless steel.

At the same time I’m taking my doctor’s advice to include jogging in my program with a one-mile daily run. At first I found this quite difficult, but I’m okay with it now since I found a shortcut.

A friend of mine is very happy with the results of his wall pushup program. Pinky is a big fellow who also prefers calorie burning over dieting. He’s lived in a small apartment for years with little room or income for expensive excercise equipment. Wall pushups, which burn about 10 calories a minute, seemed ideal for him.

After two months of hourly sessions against his living room wall, Pinky had significantly reduced his bulk and increased his muscle tone. Then one fateful night at pushup number 243, his wall gave out and Pinky fell into the adjoining apartment.

The startled young lady who lived there soon calmed down when Pinky apologized for his dramatic entrance. Very soon, he and Barby were having a tete-a-tete beside the shattered sheet rock and soon discovered they were soul mates, both New York Mets fans and Democrats who enjoyed nature walks and Mel Brooks and both had planned to adopt a shelter dog.

Pinky lost 65 pounds and gained an attractive 125-pound fiancee. They soon married and didn’t replace the shattered wall. They live now in their commodious duplex apartment with little Melvin and Old Yeller.

There is no guarantee of a happy ending like this for a wall pushupper. You had better find out who lives in the adjoining apartment. It could be a happily married personal injury attorney.

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