My doctor said I needed to get into shape.
I politely reminded him that a potato was a shape.
I laughed. He didn’t. Neither did my wife.
My best material is wasted on some people.
Like everyone else the past year, I have not been able to be as active as I like. It has caused me to gain a few more pounds than I like.
I went from about 220 to about 260. It has played havoc. Most notably on my waist.
So here I am sitting at the doctor’s office looking at my numbers.
He is pointing out what I have to do to get my weight back under control.
Eat right, exercise, make regular sacrifices to the weight watchers gods.
I am not so sure about the first two, but I think I could do the last one.
We get home and my wife immediately launches into her persona of taking charge of the situation. I find myself limited to two cups of coffee.
She has to be joking. Does she mean at the same time? In the same hour?
I might be able to limit myself to two an hour.
A day. No. Not no, but hell no.
I am looking it up, but such limitations have got to be a violation of human rights. It has got to be in the Geneva Convention somewhere.
What do you mean limited computer time?
I have to actually move? Not moving is the exact reason I have two desktops and a laptop this close and a chair that swivels and roles so I would not have to move to get things.
I do walk to the bathroom. To the kitchen. To the bed.
Yes, I admit freely the idea I can be healthier. I do not have to start hitting the gym on an hourly basis. I can be more active.
I just need to find my motivation.
I am sure it is around here somewhere. Maybe in the closet behind the thigh master and right under the buns of steel video.
I will look for it right after I finish my bowl sized coffee cup.
She did say two cups a day. She never said how big to make each cup.