How Cake Can Save Your Life. (No, Really.)

One of my favorite comedians, Demetri Martin, says the following about swimming: “Swimming is a confusing sport, because sometimes you do it for fun, and other times you do it to not die.”

In my line of work, I encounter hoards of people even more confused than Demetri. (Shout out to all you guys for keeping me employed.)

This bewilderment is not entirely mystifying, however. The truth is, swimming isn’t easy. I feel I can say this with some authority, having been in a pool since I was still shitting myself, learning how to “kick kick kick” before I’d figured out how to walk. After mastery (and potty training), I became an instructor, turning hundreds of wailing, wide-eyed, frantic students into reasonably competent amphibians. I know. Learning to swim is a lengthy, tedious, challenging, and often frightening and exhausting process.

Most people learning to swim have no aspirations of becoming the next Michael Phelps, Dara Torres, or Bluefin Tuna (those fuckers can haul). Instead, they desire to achieve only a fundamental swimming ability and thus feel comfortable suspended in water. Translation: they want to not drown. This is, of course, a laudable goal. Unfortunately, however, the agonizing, spandexed, chlorine-saturated road to it is no less daunting.

But there is an easier way.

You see, the sad fact is that humans were simply not equipped to exist in the water; learning to swim is really just forcing the issue. Overcoming this gross oversight on the part of Mother Nature requires mastery of one key element: buoyancy.

Now, the average person does float naturally. Or, at least, can float. But the average person can also drown. You see, in order to float successfully, one must relax. Right. If only I could solve all potential drowning situations by counting slowly back from ten before calling out to the victim, “Namaste!”

Removing the meditative aspect from flotation is essential. The fact is, when in the embrace of a potential cold, watery death, relaxing is as far out of the realm of possibilities as Tyra Banks joining Mensa. The goal here is a human form that floats readily, whether dismembering a bomb or in a peaceful coma.

Here are the essentials: Salt water has a density of 1.025 g/ml. Fresh water has a density slightly lower, at 1.00 g/ml. Human adipose tissue has a density of 0.92g/ml, easily less than either salt or fresh water. In other words, ladies and gentlemen: fat floats. The more adipose tissue clinging to your bones, the more buoyant you’ll be. It’s that simple.

One pound of body fat translates to a respectable 3500 calories, which warrants enlisting the aid of the big guns, one of the most calorie-dense of foodstuffs: cake. Utilizing this pastry power-punch, I’ve outlined a flawless, straightforward, and feasible plan guaranteed to lead swiftly to buoyancy domination. I call it Corpulence by Cake[1. I’d humbly like to recommend this potentially life-saving cake maneuver for the “pro-cake” column of the eternal Cake vs. Pie debate.].

To maintain a solid, healthy foundation, three square meals per day are essential. Simply add one slice of cake at the end of each regular meal, plus one additional daily “wildcard” slice. That’s it.

The average cake contains 12 slices, so consuming 4 a day averages out to 1 cake every 3 days and a hearty 121 and 2/3 cakes per year. As a guideline, I’ve included the calorie content[2. Info courtesy of www.calorie-counter.net] of one generous slice (roughly 3.5 oz) of a variety of cake types:

Confection	Calories
Devil’s Food Cake	300
Yellow Cake	300
Cheesecake	321
Fruitcake	324
Coffee Cake	339
Pound Cake	350
Chocolate Cake	380
Black Forest Cake	450
Iced Carrot Cake[3. As if you needed another reason to eat your veggies.]	470

Pro-tip: Variety is a key factor in good nutrition. To optimize success, incorporate as many different cakes as possible into your diet.

Also, avoid weak alternatives such as Angel Food and various fruity crumb cakes (come on, those are practically overgrown granola bars). These pathetic, piddling excuses for cake will set your buoyancy back substantially. Stick to the legit stuff.

This is science. Here are the facts:

The average cake slice comes to approximately 350 calories, bringing the average calorie content per cake to an admirable 4200. This sum, multiplied by 121.67 cakes/year leaves us with an exciting 511,014 bonus yearly calories!

With the aforementioned 3500 calories per pound of bodyfat, this regimen translates to a cozy 146 pounds of bodyfat per year. *WIN*

When a line chart of your BMI starts to resemble the face of Mt. Kilimanjaro, you’re doing it right.

Of course, results will vary with body type. Naturally slender folks, athletic types and those with speedier metabolisms and so-called “good genes” may have to work a little harder to win the battle of buoyancy. But if you stick with the program, before you know it, you’ll be floatier than a Hefty bag full of helium.

You’ll have won the fight for floatablitiy, the new “battle of the bulge,” if you will. In the water, you will be head and shoulders—and arms and legs and meaty midsection—above the rest. With that gargantuan gluteus, my friend, not even the mafia with their trademark concrete shoes could get you down.

Along with unstoppable buoyancy and an overwhelming sense of accomplishment, you can expect a host of additional benefits from successful completion of the Corpulence by Cake diet. Here’s a taste:

• You will win at waterparks: oozing down water slides, you’ll bob like a cork (and a champion) in the pool below, you’ll be a meaty vision riding atop wave crests in the wave pool, and you’ll be the envy of the buoyancy-challenged masses in the lazy river.

• You’ll be a pro at pool parties. While other guests scramble for flotation devices, you’ll be reclining independently on your ponderous posterior, fat fingers gripping your fruity cocktail.

• You’ll qualify for several new hypocorisms: burly bovine, beefy beluga, buxom butterball…and that’s just the beginning.

• In the event of an oceanic emergency (sinking boat, airplane crash, skinnydipping incident gone awry), not only will you be able to save yourself, but nearby friends and family can avail themselves of your newfound rotundity by grabbing the nearest available fleshy piece.

• A possible co-starring role in Titanic 2: The White Whale. (Spoiler alert: due to a new hero, this one ends with tears of happiness.)

In short, when a stewardess says, “Your seat is also a flotation device,” you’ll know you’ve won when you can respond confidently, “Bitch, I am my own flotation device.”

♦

Author’s Note: I’ve discussed tragically non-amphibious types in an earlier post. It was in the comments section of said post, that I began a discussion with a reader named Chicken involving cake and drowning, thus creating the neural connections that sparked this post. Thanks, Chicken.