I do hereby swear and affirm that I hold this Truth to be self-evident: exercise should be fun. If I am going to be bright red as a tomato, sweating like a pig (okay, they don't technically sweat, but you get the idea), and generally embarrassed in public, it should at least be fun. Who in their wrong mind puts little miss or mister exercise guru in front of a bunch of overweight men & women and expects us to believe that that skinny little rubber-bandy person up there has any idea what it's like to be overweight? I vote that every exercise instructor should be required at least once a month, to put on a bulky suit that adds an extra 70 pounds to their frame, then lock-step them through an aerobics routine. We'll see how long they last...
Would someone please tell me how the ad execs, "health" companies, and trainers have managed to surpass every Catholic or Jewish grandmother out there? Guilt, people, I'm talking about guilt. At no time have I ever sworn to myself, "I'll do 50 sit-ups tomorrow." And yet, through some mystical form of osmosis, I feel guilt because I haven't actually done any sit-ups. Not yesterday, not today, nor do I have plans to in the future. It isn't that I'm so gloriously happy with my physique that I can just blow off the idea that I should exercise more than I already do. (For those of you who are wondering, try carrying a double-load of laundry up two flights of stairs, weaving through dogs and cats, and see how you do.) Nope, I think exercise would be just jim-dandy, if it didn't include ever-increasing amounts of masochistic instructions being delivered by people who can actually smile, jump up and down and twirl, and talk, all at the same time.
Here is the second Truth I believe in: Food is not the enemy. Food is good; food is your friend. Food has taken a central part in celebrations and society since we learned to eat. Food is special. Historically, we were considered to be quite lucky when we had food. Also, food should taste good. I don't mean, "Well, potato chips are yummy, so I should eat as many as I want;" but that real food--the kind that everyone imagines their Grandma must have made--is good. I love to cook. I use butter. I use olive oil. I use meat. And yes, Virginia, I even use bacon. I refuse to use margarine--have you ever looked at what's actually in that stuff? I have seen (brace yourself) soy-based lard substitute. Do you really want to eat that? All of the things that they do to chemically process and manage all of those molecules, so that they'll "act" like the real thing, can't possibly do anything good for your body, so what's the point?
Today, we are told that the "average" caloric recommendation for an adult runs near 2000 calories per day. We are also told that our forebears ate less and worked more, and that because we have a more sedentary lifestyle and eat too much, we as Americans are overweight. Let me shed a little light on this. The 1928 edition of Feeding the Family by Mary Swartz Rose, PhD., has a lovely table in it, showing the approximate calories per day for an "average" woman (note: she weighs 123 pounds) as the following:
- "Sedentary" occupations (i.e., bookkeepers, teachers, seamstresses) get 2000-2200 calories per day;
- "Moderately Active" women (cooks, housekeepers, waitresses) get 2200-2500 calories per day;
- "Active" women (laundresses, restaurant cooks) get 2500-3000 calories per day.
Hmmm... So much for eating less. If you even factor in that we don't walk to places as often and most housework has been mechanized in some way (but moving a broom around is easier than the vacuum), we would still be looking at the same amount of calories being recommended for a "sedentary" woman of 1928 as a "moderately active" adult now.
So here's my G.P.: Take an extra walk now and then. Watch my portions. And keep carrying the laundry up the stairs.
