Tag Archives: Fitness Rocks

Crap

It’s been a crappy week so far, in that I’ve been over-eating like crazy. Since Monday, if you check my Points page, I’ve not met my daily points target once. The worst was yesterday – I had a cheese sandwich, for no real reason, a treacle pudding (which is meant to serve at least two) from a tin, with a million calories, and three hot dogs. Far too much. And having eaten into my flex points so much, this weekend will be very austere indeed if I want another successful week. And I do.

You see, it was very sobering when my counselor said that, unless I make some changes to my life, I may not see ten more years on this earth. I’d like to live past fifty-three, so that C is not a widower at fifty-two. And so that I, you know, live to see this retirement I’m encouraged to look forward to. And so that, you know, I don’t die. There are plenty of statistics about mortality and how being obese contributes to it – fat shortens your life (especially, interestingly, fat carried around the waist; it is not metabolically inert as everyone thought but contributes to systemic inflammation which reduces the body’s ability to fight the damage caused by oxidating free radicals).

I did a little research of my own and found a study mentioned on Fitness Rocks entitled “Metabolic Syndrome, Obesity, and Mortality, Impact of Cardiorespiratory Fitness” (remember I mentioned Metabolic Syndrome a few posts ago). The study was also sobering but encouraging at the same time. In short, exercise is medicine:

“CRF [cardio-respiratory fitness] is protective against premature mortality in those who are overweight and obese. Further, CRF provides a strong protective effect against both all-cause and CVD [cardio-vascular disease] mortality in healthy men and men with MetS [metabolic syndrome].”

What I get from this is that when I exercise, I save my life. Even if I don’t drop weight immediately, it’s still ‘worth it’ to try and to include exercise in my trying. Not exercising is suicide for me. Exercise is medicine and it’s cheap medicine which, when taken properly, has no unwanted side effects.

This was actually quite good to find out, since  I won’t have an ideal BMI for quite some time. I may never, although it’d be even more protective. But even on the way, attaining and increasing my cardio-respiratory fitness has a demonstrated ability keep me alive a bit longer.

And it doesn’t have to be an insane two, three or four hours at the gym doing things that only major athletes like Roman Šebrle can do. From the same study:

“The amount of physical activity required to achieve the levels of CRF that were protective in this study is 30 min of moderate intensity activity on most days of the week, which are the currently recommended physical activity levels for health.”

That tells me that inspite of my knee hurting (and it does today, it feels like it’s on fire) when I make the choice to avoid the gym, I’m making the choice to not avoid the grave. It’s factual and simple. But it’s true for everyone. You’d think everyone would be moderately active for 30 minutes most days, but they aren’t. I need to keep these facts front and center, even when I don’t want to exercise, like now, when my knee is hurting from bursitis so bad. Moderate intensity can be easily judged by the ‘talk test’ – if you can talk, but not sing, you’re exercising at moderate intensity.

I’m going to do something tonight on the treadmill, even if it’s not ‘perfect.’ I’ve not gone since Monday and that’s courting the grave.

 Wow, AngloAm, that’s quite a bit to think about…what else do you have for us?

Just this picture of aforementioned Roman Šebrle I found. In it he’s in his uniform and sporting a criminally cute moustache – I’ve always had a ‘thing’ for facial hair. He’s not posing – he’s a reservist in the Czech army – I think either a Captain or a Major. On his shoulder is the badge of the military sport club he trains with. I don’t read Czech but the award seems to be for being the best (nejlepší) Czech athlete. He’s certainly one of the handsomest!

 

sebsol

(That reminds me – must hide C’s razor!)

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Not necessarily a bad weekend

I guess that’s not such a bad title, huh? And it sums up this weekend.

Friday (let’s start there, shall we), our chums and C and I met at crack chicken central, i.e., Sardi’s in semi-beautiful downtown Beltsville, MD. Only I didn’t have chicken, I had the shrimp which was heavenly. I was trying to ‘do well’ because earlier I’d been to a ‘hail and farewell’ at the office and there were a few snacks and maybe I had a beer. 🙂 It was strange to see my boss choke up because of one of the employees from our office who was leaving. Also, handsome first lieutenant M. P. got an award for something so that was good too. People who are arriving get a ‘coveted’ Division East coffee mug, those leaving get whatever their office bought them, any awards due them, and our best wishes.

Saturday C got me off my well padded and to the gym which was good because for the first time in ages I was able to do 60 minutes again. And yes, I took a friend’s suggestion and covered up the time with a towel and it did help a bit. The other thing that helped was not watching The Real Housewives on my iPhone but listening to Fitness Rocks, a fantastic podcast that you can also listen to on your Mac (or that other system that’s out there, Windoze, I think). It’s really good. I thoroughly recommend it.

Watched “In My Country” later on – it’s a bit clichéd and heavy-handed. If you want the complexities of the end of apartheid and the doings of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission served up in a pretty package for you to feel good about, it’s great. Otherwise, not so much. I may try to find “Forgiveness” to see if it’s got a better take. The idea of a TRC was great, victims could tell their tales and the agents of repression (police, BOSS and the NIS, and the SADF) had to tell the truth and prove they were politically motivated and/or ating on orders to get amnesty from prosecution. However, it did mean that plenty of murderers and torturers and such are still free and going about in SA today. On the other hand, plenty of MK terrorists are too. But I think that Ubuntu may not stand up if Zuma becomes president and keeps on singing Umshini Wami.

Today was very very lazy. I left the house once, to go get us lunch from Burger King (I love their veggie burger). I did post a bunch of pictures to my facebook and to Flikr and found out that it can feed them to this here blog (see the sidebar).

That’s honestly about it, I’ve no profound thoughts except that I’m really pleased to have come in under my points for the week, and that I’m a bit nervous about weighing myself tomorrow morning as I’ve made this pledge about openness and all that. <gulp> For now, that’s all I have to get off my chest. I’m glad Roman Šebrle found something to get off his chest!

Roman Sebrle shirtless

Roman Sebrle shirtless

(No little comment today – I’m speechless)

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Filed under Cute Guys, Exercise, South Africa, Work

Mah Pillz Ain’t Wurkin’

I dunno why but I’ve been a bit gloomy lately. This past weekend had so much promise; we were going to get off our well padded bottoms and “get stuff done.”

Friday night my friends and I went to a Mexican restaurant and I’m so proud of C and myself – we shared one basket of chips out of the many that were delivered. I have to say that another dieter at the table also ate very very few, and they are, in her very own words, Satan’s little helpers.

Saturday morning Neal came by, per appointment, and he wasn’t as obnoxious as usual, which is as they say a Good Thing.

Then the energy went out of the weekend for both of us. In our defense, Sunday was pretty dull around here.

Sunday we bestirred ourselves enough to go to my Mom and Dad’s house to check out their pickup truck and see if I can fit my fat ass into it. I can, so the plan is next weekend to borrow it “for real” and use it to get ‘stuff’ for the garden. We toyed with buying a second hand pick up truck but really it wouldn’t be worth the cost. Lunch at Chipotle, squabbled and came home.

Yesterday I did 60 good minutes at the gym with some fairly decent eye candy to keep me from being bored. As well, I staved off ennui by listening to the ‘Fitness Rocks’ podcast and watching a bit of Chuck. I’m up to 42 minutes non-stop, then I did three six minute stretches with less than a minute break. Watched ‘the guys’ playing basketball. I wish I could tell you why my eyes are so often drawn to ‘Pointy Haired Guy.’ He’s not my normal taste – very very very thin and tall is not a look I normally like. I could say it’s the grace with which he plays but that’s not it. Maybe it’s just curiosity; I’ve never seen a man quite that skinny who didn’t have a odd face and PHG’s got a very handsome, if not a bit long and thin (surprise surprise!), face. I wish I could bottle how I feel while I’m working out.

I ate really well Monday. Today not so much. There was cake in the breakroom with real butter cream icing and I had a huge slab of it. 😦 Rushed to the gym, and rushed in, and left my iPod headphones and water bottle in the car. As I sat there wondering if I dared run and get them, as the available treadmills were filling up fast, I decided ‘fcuk it’ and went home. Well, I tell a small lie, I actually was feeling a bit ill. See cake, above. 😦 😦

Made dinner tonight for C & me, chicken thighs sautéed with fried brussels sprouts (from what we had for Seder over a week ago; that fridge does a good job keeping vegetables) and asparagus. I also made some rhubarb compote for dessert.

So why’m I so flat? It’s not like we have a bad few days coming up – Thursday C is staying home to let the HVAC inspectors in while I take the car for a service, then we’re having lunch together and I’m getting my hair cut (which one? hee hee!). Maybe mah peelz ain’t working.

Maybe I’m discontented with myself and my self-indulgence. We are having a bit of a kerfuffle with the city over two different issue – the house next door still is not repaired from what turned out to be a fire, and there’s a divergence of views about the height of the power lines going to the house; I think they’re still low enough where a truck could snag them as trucks have in the past; our city councilman and head of public works say not. I guess what I could do is demand all parties’ home phone numbers so that when it happens next (and it will) I can ring them and make sure they’re as irritated as I will be.

Maybe it’s my great long to-do list at home and at work. Maybe it’s not eating right. Maybe it’s acting as if I’ve got no time to get to the to-do list having spent an hour and a half in front of the TV this evening.

Maybe it’s feeling that C is irritated with me and not knowing what to do about it. Maybe it’s knowing that, or thinking it, and not doing anything about it. I don’t know. I just feel existentially fed up.

I need a day off. But when I get one all I do is watch porn, or The Real Housewives of Wherever.

“I’m just tired and bored with myself” to quote some old Jersey boy. Languor is the mot du jour; here’s Silvio Nascimento doing languid far better than I ever could.

(How shall we get his energy up?)

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