I was totally smitten over a girl who did not see me the same way. I’ve been accustomed to the amusing, self-deprecating sort of rejection, but this has weighed heavily and I have lost my swagger, my moxie, my arrogant cancerslayer aura. To get it back I must watch hundreds of hours of old wrestling footage of The Rock, and practice “The People’s Eyebrow” for even longer.

Although I suspect that method would work, as a galaxy-renowned author and motivational speaker I have too much pride to mimic a dude who wears tights. Instead, I will eliminate all visual body fat. Then, and only then, will I get my swag back.

I’ve been writing about this goal for far too long without accomplishing it. I apologize for that. But now I must succeed in order to feel like Ben-Jammin again. I’m spinning every morning while watching The Wire. My injured foot is healed enough to climb stairs. I plan to add a new weightlifting supplement beyond my usual egg protein, like nitric oxide or L-arginine. I will create a workout playlist with all of The Rock’s best lines.

And I’ll be hitting my punching bag, one of the best fat-burning activities I can perform. I assembled this myself earlier this year.

But now that I have added my own illustrations, I can really lay the smack down. I’m not claiming to be a galaxy-renowned illustrator, so I’ll help you out interpreting these fist-inducing pics:

Virginia Tech. Pure, unbridled hatred.

Dallas Cowboys. Ditto.

Salmon. Read my book.

No, not Arby's. Particulate respirator mask.

Biohazard symbol found on bags of chemotherapy.

My crutches I used to turn cool tricks on.

A hanging bag of IV meds. Take your pick which kind, or make up your own, like an anti-tanning drug. That could lead to some serious power punches.

My 2011 New Year’s resolution was to better myself, to ring in Benjamin 2.0. I have re-upped that resolution on Rosh Hashanah—the Jewish New Year. I also resolve not to blog about this fitness goal again until the task is complete. If you smell what the Ben-Jammin is cookin’!