Fat Chance: Bill McCuddy Chases a Hamptons Beach Body

I have a confession. I don’t have a “beach” body. I have a beached body. Like a distressed whale. With a big high school reunion at the end of June, I panicked. A recent physical had my doctor declaring me in “OK shape.” Round is OK? And he said I didn’t have enough body fat for Ozempic — to which Mrs. McCuddy said, “You need a second opinion.” To make matters worse, my daughter and a few friends have an Instagram account called “Hungry for Hamptons.” Beautiful food shots from local restaurants. Lilly, that’s not helping.
I like my doctor, so the second opinions I decided to get were from private trainers. I walk nine holes on nice days at the Bridgehampton Golf Club. But it’s a winter membership. And if I were an Equinox member, I could join the Bridgehampton pop-up now for $750 a month (I know, how do they make ends meet?), but they got rid of valet parking last year and now expect me to walk to the front door. Are they serious?
Since I live in Bridgehampton, I can use the high school gym in the mornings and at night. But for two years I’ve been doing that. A grueling eight to 10 brisk minutes on the machines the Bees use and nothing. There’s an 80-year-old regular there who I’m pretty sure could take me in a bar fight. So, clearly I need professional guidance.

My first meeting is with Eric Cohen. He was a guest on my WLIW-FM radio program earlier this year with advice that seemed smart. I didn’t listen then. I am now. He specializes in folks over 50. I’m closer to 60 than 50. OK, I’m 68. He’s competed in something called the NOBULL CrossFit Games and looks it. He got a Bronze medal. I owned a bronze Buick once.
“The biggest challenge is the amount of muscle we lose as we age,” he tells me. “So we need to ‘lift heavy’ with proper form and technique, that’s crucial,” he adds. Uh-oh. He also says we need the right muscles for everyday chores. He gives me an example. “I just picked my daughter up at the airport and her giant duffle bag was 60 pounds.” That’s one of my toes, I think. “This is life. Stuff comes up,” he sagely reminds me.
The routine he leads me through is constantly changing. That’s good. And for my bad knee, back and left shoulder, he is doing a lot of tweaking. Stopping me from one thing and “firing up the muscles” around my sore areas to keep from doing more damage. This guy is good. Maybe I’ll send him to the reunion. He calls my current state “de-conditioned.” I think that’s polite trainer-talk for “dumpster fire.” But he says with two months I could see a “big difference.”
His fees, like all the trainers I talk to, run to a couple hundred dollars a session. This one lasts a fairly tough hour. Biking, rowing, lifting and a lot of crawling around on the floor. With big rubber bands for resistance. I’m resisting alright. And like all the private trainers I talk to, he offers discounts for multiple visits. And a free “test drive” initial session.
Cohen’s also a literal private trainer. He’s coached some famous people but doesn’t name names, no matter how much I beg. Hey, I also write for Page Six. And he asks that I don’t disclose the location of his compact facility. It’s called the “Secret Gym” on its door. I will just say it’s centrally located in the Hamptons. It’s one-on-one training because only two people will fit in here. But it does means walk-ins won’t distract us. He also trains seven days a week. Though beginners like me can get by with as few as two sessions, as long as I’m willing to also train on my own. Despite the time we’ve spent together, he really doesn’t know me, does he?
My next stop is to meet the charming Kelly Sheppard at Harbor Pilates. This location I can disclose — it’s on 114 just outside of Sag Harbor. Sheppard gets one look at me and immediately takes me to a rack. “Most people don’t have access to equipment like this at home,” she tells me. Even in the Hamptons, where trendy stuff clogs Further Lane basements. “Social media has made Pilates popular again, people can see the equipment. But it’s expensive.” She’s not kidding. The 10 Pilates devices that look like something out of a 1950s gynecologist’s office can run $7 grand. “Younger people are doing it more,” she adds. I just smile and suck in my gut. It doesn’t make me look any younger.

“Most celebrities do it and a lot of athletes.” She says even ordinary shlubs like me enjoy it because “You’re in and you’re out. It’s a total body workout.” That becomes apparent as she straps me into various devices and leads me through a lot of different moves. It’s not immediately painful — in fact the stretching feels pretty good. I can see why athletes like it for rehab. She takes me through a wide range of motions. And uses terms like “spinal articulation.” I’m rolling through my spine. That’s good. “I was in advertising for 25 years — I didn’t think I had a spine.” She kind of smirks. Kind of.
When I tell her I’ve been going to a gym for a while she says this is different because “you’re connecting your mind with your body and your breath. In a gym I don’t think half the people know what they’re doing.” I think we’ve established I’m in that half. “Shoulders back, hips forward, neutral in the spine,” is the Pilates mantra. Years at a computer have played havoc with my “hip flexors.” She knows what she’s talking about, she’s been doing it for 20 years. She has small classes. Just five people in the winter, seven in the summer, but also does individual training. She says I will feel “lighter in my body.” But will I look any lighter? She doesn’t make any promises, but I do feel pretty good.

Breahna Arnold of Hampton Bays makes house calls. She has clients of all ages and unlike Cohen doesn’t make a distinction for AARPers. “It’s all the same, I just train at your pace.” Great. Now I need a pace. “We always do the same workouts, we just modify it or progress it based on their skill level.” She thinks everybody needs to weight train. “Whether you love yoga or Pilates or bike riding, everyone needs to lift weights.” We do a little of that in our initial hour, but she’s also evaluating my balance and doing cool fitness checks. I dance through and around a rope ladder she lays on the floor. I’m doing pull ups on rings she attaches to a door jamb. Then mini-lunges across the living room. Our two dogs and a cat seem transfixed.
I have good balance she says and strong hips. They’re called flexors! I tell her about my reunion and ask about the importance of goals, like a special event or just a body that actually wants to go to the beach. “Goals can definitely help motivate you, I’m a goal-oriented person, but you need something that’s going to keep you going once you achieve your goal.” Hey, let’s not get crazy. I’m just trying to get through this first hour without a hernia. “Longevity is the best goal,” she offers. Even to me that sounds wise. But I’m just trying to make it to the end of June.
If any of this works, I’ll report back on which trainer I picked. And if none of this works and you see me lying on the beach? Roll me back into the water.
If you’re interested, Eric Cohen can be reached on Instagram @ericcohen. You can call or text Kelly Sheppard at 843-324-8182 or email Breahna Arnold @breahnaarnoldart@gmail.com. Good luck, and pass the Gatorade.

Bill McCuddy is a frequent Dan’s contributor. He’s a professional stand-up comedian “sometimes” he says. “I’ve been on Conan three times if you count reruns.” He also hosts a monthly radio program on WLIW-FM and a weekly summer LTV show “Weekend Live: The Hamptons Now” with Patrick McLaughlin. He would write more but he’s winded.