It's Tuesday afternoon and Lisa and Quinlan are down for a nap until he/she wake up for his four o'clock feeding. Right around that time I'll be training one of my clients and will then drag my weary arse outside for a run. Probably in the region of 4 or 5 miles. It's not what I want to do. And I doubt I'll come close to that theoretical 'runner's high'. I rarely do. But I know that if I don't get out there and 'git 'er dun' as they say here in the South, I'm going to become part of a bad statistic - again.
I make this observation because not that many people remember me when I was so fat I was obese. They see me as Mel the personal trainer. And of course they seem to think that because I do this for a living it's also something that I do for fun for myself. If only! Now this - writing - this I like to do for myself. And I love to read. Not as much as I like to watch telly and eat chips and dip. I think I could compete for England in the Olympic Games if being a sloven were an event. So I guess I'd have to consider myself pretty normal.
Being in shape isn't easy. Actually that's not true. Every human being is in shape. Some are round, some are shaped like pears. They are both shapes are they not? Perhaps I should say that being fit, healthy and in good shape isn't easy. It takes time and effort. And for all of the people who are going to tell me they don't have time to exercise I'll respond with the adage "those who won't find time for exercise will find time for illness." That's a great saying if you ask me.
So the reason behind this missive (I used that description for my good friend Fred in San Diego) is because of a conversation I had with a client today, a headline in the local fish wrap and a sight I saw the other day. My client was telling me about a book called 'Skinny Bitch'. Apparently the authors don't pull any punches when it comes to telling people why they're fat. The front page yesterday was saying the children in rural areas are more likely to be obese than kids in urban areas because there aren't as many facilities.. And finally the other day I saw a man out walking with his son. Which in some ways is a good thing. It's what I intend to do with Quinlan. But the father had to be a good 80 pounds overweight. I don't know if I'll ever see the two of them out again and the father will be down to a manageable weight or not.
So here's a point I have. At what stage are we going to look in the mirror and see who we really are and who we are really being? When will we give up this charade? I bet that tonight there will be 20 to 20 million fat and lazy people guzzling down beer and crap foods watching the show 'The Biggest Loser.' Here's a message the broadcasters ought to have on a ticker along the bottom the way they do on the business channels. "you are a big fat loser.....you are a lazy pig....get your fat arse off the sofa and exercise...you are a big fat loser..."
As the title of the blog states, when are we going to own up? It's nobody else's fault other than you that you're fat. It's a very simple observation I have to make - YOU ARE LAZY. With one exception to the rule. If you are in a socio-economic group where it's not possible for you to purchase healthy food or nutritional meals. But I personally don't know of anyone in that category. So back to my point. My client today said that her husband had the temerity to say that it's harder to eat healthy out than it is at home. I find that one of the most inane statements I've heard in a long time. And here's my response to anyone who might deign to say the same thing - YOU ARE A PIG......that's it I'm afraid. If you choose to go to a restaurant that doesn't serve a salad or healthy fare of some kind then you're an idiot as well as being a pig. And if you do go to a restaurant that will serve you an oriental chicken salad and you choose to consume the bacon cheeseburger and fries - you're a PIG!
I know this is coming off as a rant but it's not as though I'm going on about something I don't have first hand experience in. I was a fat, lazy pig who didn't do a lick of exercise and ballooned up to 220 pounds. I wasn't coerced to eat the crap I had for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Nobody egged me on to go out on a Friday night and drink 12-15 beers. I did it of my own volition. And I'm not an idiot - in this arena at least. I knew exactly what I was doing when I was doing it. I was being a lazy fat pig. Just like the ones you see down on the farm.
And here's the saddest part - I think. Because I think we live in a society of entitlement, I was expecting to get bailed out some how. Without me having to put forth much effort I was going to miraculously look the way I wanted to look. I was constantly on the prowl for an easy out. There had to be an easier way to health and happiness then effort. I was wrong - I think....