This is war . . . or at least it’s competition.
Wednesday’s Optic contained a resolution/confession/regimen involving managing editor Dave Kavanaugh, who described the ordeal of trying to whip his body into shape overnight.
At half my age, Kavanaugh looks good. So do the others in the Optic newsroom: Jesse Gallegos, David Wesner and Casey Stege.
Reading Kavanaugh’s resolve to gain back his six-pack abs and buns of steel, I became encouraged to attempt the same. But let’s be fair, guys. I once asked a fitness trainer how much he would charge me to remove this generous spread I call a gut. Nonplussed, he asked me, “How much did it cost you to put it on?”
He had a point, and he pounded it home. But weight, there’s more.
At the risk of being extremely introspective, I emphasize I’ve been there and done that when it comes to setting a goal of looking like Brad Pitt by Christmas.
When one pushes 65 and attends funerals of people who are younger, it’s sobering. When I write a column about high school football players heavier than 200 pounds, I need to realize, “Hey, I’m there too, but I’m not even playing football.”
Is there any subject about which a person like me obsesses more than losing weight and getting healthy? Each morning before rising, I say to myself, “Self, today I start getting healthy.”
It’s easy to blame this weighty problem on a skin condition that necessitated taking steroids. I gained 17 pounds during a brief regimen. It’s easy to blame age itself. It would be simple to claim that the stress over more than my share of deaths of relatives contributed to my weight gain. My Latin teacher might argue that “post hoc, ergo propter hoc,” meaning “after the fact, therefore because of it.” But the fact that the massive weight gain occurred after I finished taking medication does not necessarily mean the steroids caused the extra poundage.
The reality is many people kill themselves with a knife (and fork). It would be easy to pass judgment on the fattening of America, a trend that’s been occurring for 20 years. I was heartened to read the opinion of Dr. George Bunch, a local pediatrician, who says kids today overeat and under-exercise.
It’s ironic that at the Abe Montoya Recreation Center, of which I have been a member and frequent patron for years, kids go there for swimming and other forms of vigorous exercise, and at the end of their regimen, many head for the “store,” where they buy candy, chips and other high-calorie treats.
I’ve tried several of the more sensible diet programs, with varying degrees of success. Unfortunately, like many people, I find that after leaving the diet, I add more pounds than I started with. To my credit I have eschewed (Gesundheit!) some of the quack diets in which you can lose 80 pounds by eating only chocolate, or having a grapefruit each morning, “which dissolves all the fats in your body.”
Reading Dave Kavanaugh’s column, and realizing that his readers will be expecting results, I’ve decided to do the same, but without Draconian measures such as jogging.
I’m grateful to my walking partner and former U.S. Census co-worker Tonita Gurule-Giron, who keeps me on track. And of course, every-other-day visits to the fitness center help.
But the main thing is control of what I consume. In a caloric sense, it would take several walks around a football field to work off the effects of a Snickers bar. So my pre-fall resolution is to shed several pounds of ugly fat. (Yeah, you and I have already heard the one about the quickest and surest way of losing that ugly fat: cut off my head.)
My approach will simply be sensible eating and plenty of exercise. At the end of each Work of Art, I will include a figure representing my weight that day. If you see me around town, I’d appreciate it if you’d greet me not with “Hi, Art,” but with “Hi, 234,” which is my weight today. That’ll provide satisfaction in that I will know you’re sympathetic.
There are any number of digs about overweight people. We cloak our condition with humor. We reassure ourselves that inside every obese person there’s a skinny person trying to get out.
I’ve come to believe that outside every obese person is an even fatter person trying to get in.
Let me assure you that Work of Art is not going to turn into a diet-and-calories-and-exercise column. However, on occasion it would be interesting to learn about any success stories our readers may have.
Meanwhile every chance you get, keep checking out Dave Kavanaugh’s astonishing abs, Casey Stege’s diaphanous deltoids, Dave Wesner’s pulchritudinous pecs and Jesse Gallegos’ Jurrasic jowls. But especially, keep Kavanaugh honest. After all, he’s the one who brought up the subject.
And for now, I’ll sign off as “234″ (subject to change without notice).