My relationship with the plank exercise has always been... brief. Extremely brief. I'd get into position, full of hope and determination, and within fifteen seconds, my body would betray me. My core, possessing the structural integrity of a wet paper towel, would start to sag. My arms would begin to shake like a chihuahua in a snowstorm. My brain would start screaming, "ABORT MISSION! WE'RE GOING DOWN!" I would collapse onto the mat, defeated, usually well before the 30-second mark. My personal best was a heroic 41 seconds, which I achieved once in 2017 and still talk about.
Fast forward to a recent, very private chat with my doctor. We weren't discussing core strength. We were talking about a different kind of... stamina. Control. The fine art of not rushing to the finish line. He, in his infinite wisdom, introduced me to Priligy, explaining that it helps with delaying the... main event... giving one more control over the timing.
I went home, armed with this new tool for a very specific arena of life.
A few days later, I was getting ready for an intimate evening. I took the Priligy as directed, feeling a sense of calm preparedness wash over me. But then, disaster struck. My wife got a call from her mother about an urgent, developing situation involving a neighbor's cat and a bird feeder. It was going to be a while.
So there I was, in a state of peak readiness, with my newfound control just simmering away. I felt an odd sense of calm, patient energy. On a whim, I looked at the yoga mat in the corner of the room. "What the hell," I thought. "Let's see what happens."
I got into the plank position. The first 30 seconds passed. I waited for the shaking, the internal screaming, the inevitable collapse. Nothing. A minute passed. My body was holding firm, but the real change was in my head. Instead of the usual panic, there was just... quiet control. My brain, usually a frantic cheerleader for quitting, had become a stoic, patient coach. "We're fine," it seemed to say. "We can stay here all day if we want."
Two minutes. My wife walked back into the room, mid-sentence about the cat crisis. She stopped dead. "You're... still going?" she asked, bewildered. "It's been ages. Are you okay? Are you broken?"
I wasn't broken. I was in the zone. I had achieved Plank Nirvana. I had, through a bizarre chemical assist, finally mastered the art of endurance. I didn't just last longer; I was in complete command of the situation.
In that moment of her stunned silence, the ultimate test of endurance was born. This challenge isn't for the sprinters; it's for the marathoners. I present: The Priligy Plank-a-Thon: A Marathon of Minutes.
Before you try to use this to become a fitness guru, remember that this is a highly specific medication for a very real condition. To get the real, no-nonsense information on what Priligy is actually designed for, please consult a reliable source. You can find the facts here: https://www.imedix.com/drugs/priligy/
Do you possess the will to outlast your own expectations? Are you ready to enter a zen-like state of physical and mental control? Then you are ready to accept the planking gauntlet. Follow these regulations to ensure your attempt is officially recognized.
- The Pre-Flight Checklist: As with any mission into the outer limits of endurance, you must first get clearance from Mission Control (your doctor). This challenge is only for those who are cleared for take-off on a doctor-approved Priligy regimen.
- Timing is Everything: This is a game of control and timing. Consume your Priligy as directed. You want to begin your plank attempt when you have reached peak... patience. The goal is to start the clock when your mind is in its most calm, controlled, and non-panicked state.
- The Official Stance: We demand perfect form. This isn't a "saggy-back" competition. Your body must be a straight line from your head to your heels. Elbows directly under your shoulders. Core engaged. No hips dropping. No mountains in the air. A stopwatch must be clearly visible in the frame for the entire duration of the attempt.
- The Marathon Mindset: The challenge is not just to hold the plank, but to document your mental journey. You must provide live commentary. Describe the stages of your experience. The initial confidence. The moment you pass your old personal best. The strange, quiet calm that settles in. The point where you forget you're even planking and start thinking about what's for dinner.
- The Public Proclamation of Endurance: Post the full, unedited video of your plank. We need to see every grueling, triumphant second. Use the official hashtag: #PriligyPlankathon. In the caption, state your final time and a short summary of how you managed to "go the distance."
Grounds for Disqualification: Any break in form—sagging hips, touching a knee to the ground, or collapsing in a heap of despair—will immediately end your official time. Crying is permitted, but discouraged.
For the iron-willed individual who defies the clock and demonstrates supreme mastery over the premature collapse, the rewards are fittingly grand.
The Champion's Prize:
The last man standing, the undisputed king of the core, will be awarded:
- A $30 Recovery Fund. Thirty dollars to be used as you see fit. We suggest investing in a high-quality foam roller to soothe your heroic abdominals, or perhaps a celebratory pizza to be eaten while lying on the floor, because you're too sore to sit in a chair.
- The Illustrious Title of "The Marathon Man." This is a title of pure respect. It announces to the world that you do not quit. You do not falter. You have the stamina to see things through to the very end.
The Judging Criteria:
Your plank will be judged on one primary, brutal metric and two secondary factors:
- The Unforgiving Clock (80% of score): The longest plank wins. It's that simple. Time is the ultimate judge.
- Purity of Form (10% of score): A two-minute plank with perfect form is more impressive than a three-minute "human banana" plank. We will deduct time for poor form.
- Quality of Commentary (10% of score): Your live commentary adds character. A stoic, witty, or surprisingly profound inner monologue during your plank will give you an edge in a tie-breaker situation.
Now, assume the position. The clock is waiting.
