Our basement is getting close to being finished and Big is buying all his fancy-shmancy home theater equipment and electronics for his kingdom down there. I’ve been begging Big for a Wii for several months, maybe even for a year now. So, yesterday he finally broke down and bought me the Wii. We hooked it up in our family room until the basement is finished and did a trial run.
I am not a gamer, nor do I have good hand-eye coordination. Big is a gamer. He’s been gaming since the days of Pong. The reason I wanted a Wii is because it can be played more by simulation than by using a controller and pushing buttons. Big has wanted me to join him in this activity for years and I figured the Wii was my only way of possibly leveling the playing field.
Well, last night proved that theory wrong, wrong, wrong. The Wii just might be the death of me. After 15 minutes of boxing Big had kicked my butt numerous times. I was sweating like a pig, breathing hard, and my arms felt like they would fall off. Today my arms hurt.
Apparently to play the Wii effectively you must be in some form of decent physical shape. I do not exercise. That’s right. I DO NOT EXERCISE. I am one of those thin people who is hopelessly out of shape but doesn’t look it. So, now in order to play my brand spanking new Wii I will need to get into shape. How’s that for ironic. I need to exercise to play a video game. So, much for the theory that video games will lead to obesity and physical inactivity.
So, until my muscles get over the trauma of being used I am calling the Wii an “Ow-Wii.” Cuz ladies and gents, that’s how I’m feeling after several rounds of Wii boxing. And for the record Big finds this all amusing.