Charles Atlas will make a man of you!

Somehow, I slogged through the course with only an occasional transgression. (You win this round, beer.) Considering how quickly exercise trends get debunked -- cough Ab Rocker cough -- the most surprising thing about Charles Atlas' pre-Depression fitness philosophy is how well it has stood up over time. The course is one-part exercise, one-part diet, two-parts photographs of Atlas in a thong, with the remaining parts dedicated to motivational messages delivered by its author in loud, scolding tones -- ELIMINATE FEAR. CONQUER WORRY. OMIT DEPRESSION. NEVER CLOSE YOUR BEDROOM WINDOW. Putting aside his tenets' eerie similarity to a Scientology recruitment pamphlet, the general instructions within each lesson in the Dynamic-Tension course contain a thread of common sense that is just as relevant today. Atlas advises against over-exertion and encourages stretching for flexibility. He champions hydration, condemns enriched white flour and rice, and makes a prescient argument for organic foods, instructing the reader to "exercise care and choose only those [foods] that are called organic. That is, foods from which the life-principal has not been extracted by commercial processes."

In every lesson, I found something I'd heard echoed by contemporary fitness experts. Atlas' instructions to avoid acidic, spicy foods like pickles, ketchup, vinegar and mustard are remarkably similar to one of the main principles in "Dr. Joshi's Holistic Detox," a recent best-selling diet book heartily endorsed by actress Gwyneth Paltrow. Although I'm not sure if Dr. Joshi, like Atlas, also recommends dousing one's genitals with icy water each morning until you experience a "pleasant warm glow in that region."

Of course, for each good idea contained within the Atlas course, there is an almost equal measure of bat-shit crazy. Sometimes I found his methodologies questionable, such as his advice for avoiding muscular stiffness: "feed the tissues by rubbing them gently with pure olive oil." (The course also suggests reserving some extra olive oil to rub into your scalp, which must have produced a smoky rotisserie-chicken aroma at the beach.) He also suggests a few too many bracingly cold morning baths. Combined with Atlas' insistence on leaving windows open year-round to let in fresh air, I wonder if he should have added an appendix to his course, titled "Coping With Pneumonia."

Dynamic-Tension also devotes a borderline obsessive amount of attention to developing manly breasts. Atlas believed the chest, rather than the abdomen, was the body's core source of power and that undeveloped chest muscles were evidence of systemic weakness and lowered resistance to disease. Throughout the course, Atlas returned to this subject again and again, never missing an opportunity to promote his own juiced and gleaming pecs, which he claimed were the pride of the health, fitness and science community. This singular emphasis on chest strength felt outdated, as did the course's exclusion of any kind of aerobic training. Despite Atlas' concern for deep-breathing fresh air -- he maintained fresh air was as much a food as any fruit or vegetable -- I never found anything in Dynamic-Tension that noticeably increased my heart rate, aside from the occasional fear of being laughed at while performing certain exercises.

Even casually ignoring select words of wisdom -- against Atlas' better judgment, I declined performing all of my exercises in the nude -- I surprised myself with the level of dedication I applied to both exercise and dietary restraint while on the program. I got a little shaky whenever I smelled coffee, and any time I passed by a display of delicious cakes -- why did I keep finding myself outside bakeries, anyway? -- but I held strong. Going to bed early, however, proved nearly impossible and I abandoned that instruction after just two days. In my defense, Charles Atlas created this program in 1921, when there was nothing much to watch on television.

In just a few short weeks of training I already noticed improvements. I could see a difference in my chest. It was slightly more defined, less in need of underwire support. I had more energy, and I could tell I'd lost a bit of weight -- maybe only 2-3 pounds, but enough to enjoy sitting again. It was impressive, especially when my work had consisted mostly of standing in front of my mirror, practicing Lamaze-style breathing and making myself extra tense, one muscle group at a time.

There was one very unexpected and unfortunate side effect of my new multi-grain diet, however: uncontrollable and constant flatulence. Really constant. Like, if Branford Marsalis held a note this long he would get a standing ovation. I never figured out exactly what caused that 24-hour methane stutter, but it might have been the sound of my gastrointestinal system gasping for its first breaths of air after being choked by whole milk vanilla lattes, cake frosting and Twizzlers for so long.

With just one month spent training, the results obviously weren't dramatic. I was still several lessons away from completing the course and gaining the strength and confidence necessary to walk around the beach shirtless, punching strangers in the face. Though I'm not convinced Dynamic-Tension was perfect for me, the structure certainly helped. It also confirmed my suspicion that the key to unlocking the Perfect Body is mental, not material. The incentive to get in shape has to exceed the novelty of participating in a virtual yoga class taught by a video game. Speaking of real incentive, Charles Atlas offers an inspirational "Feats of Strength" section at the end of his course, featuring party tricks such as Tearing a Telephone Book in Half, Holding Two Cars Each Going in the Opposite Directions and the ever-popular Lifting a Pony. ("You will be amazed to find how easily you can lift the pony on your back.")

Unfortunately, unlike the rest of the Dynamic-Tension course, those exercises will require some additional equipment.