With thanks to The Princess Bride
So I went to the doc for my results. I wasn't panicked like I was last time. I presumed—rightly—it was just the follow-up appointment for my test results. Those test results being a test taken two months after a first test.
Well, how did I go? Not great; but then not awful, either. I bizarrely apparently weigh three kilos heavier than I was last time I was at the doctor—two weeks ago. My cholesterol dropped a notch but not enough to be too exciting. Basically no more eating animal derived fats. As for my daily output of a 20 minute exercise bike ride, alas for someone like me it needs to be more. Twice as much in fact. Yes, due to my sedentary career of basically sitting on my arse all day I don't even have the normal to-and-fro exercise of my non-white collar brethren. I am sitting right now. So, like astronauts fighting off muscle wastage in zero g, I must do a fair chunk of purpose exercise just to take the edge off my frame lest it continue on its previous path of inexorable growth.
I'm also pre-diabetic. As in just on the cusp of being considered diabetic with my tested sugar level being around 5.5.
According to the doc ideally I should drop twenty kilos. Ideally I would ... if I could. Ha, ha, ha. I seriously doubt I'd ever be able to do that.
It is pretty disheartening to realise that all the exercise I do now is but the absolute minimum someone like me should do. Especially given my genetic disposition to retain fat. I thought at least I was helping. Turns out I wasn't but then neither was I not.
After the doctor visit, and having been told by him I could no longer indulge suckling at the animal fats bosom, I walked past the nearby cafe. Their special of the day was a thickshake for five dollars. A thickshake that contained no less than six scoops of ice-cream.
Universe, did you grab my ass?
The icing on the universe-delivered ass grabbing was the call I got when I returned from the doctor. My report is now going to be another three days late. This time the lateness is due to equipment failure.
Universe, you did grab my ass! Oh, I know your tricks.
However I've already started on the boost in exercise. When I rode the TPC when I got home I went for seven kays instead of six. It meant an extra four minutes. I plan to try and boost my distance by 500 metres every couple of rides until, in a month or so, I am up to around the 40 minute mark in total riding time. Eventually I'll get a number, I'd say off-hand 13 kays, to aim for that will reflect that time.
See, look at me! I'm already taking steps! Take that, Bitterman!
However I've already started on the boost in exercise. When I rode the TPC when I got home I went for seven kays instead of six. It meant an extra four minutes. I plan to try and boost my distance by 500 metres every couple of rides until, in a month or so, I am up to around the 40 minute mark in total riding time. Eventually I'll get a number, I'd say off-hand 13 kays, to aim for that will reflect that time.
See, look at me! I'm already taking steps! Take that, Bitterman!
HM, you're dealing with genetic and environmental hand you've been dealt. Given the particular constraints of your situation you are doing the best Paul Hogan* you can to do the right thing by your health.
ReplyDelete* take the bull by the horns
Aw, thanks, man. That's a good point. I need to remember not to beat myself up for a crap hand at health. Besides, I exceed in other ways! Not ... not that way. For shame, Ms GR, for shame.
DeleteYou do more exercise than I do, too. Man, that's a depressing thought! But go you on the increasing of the exercise.
DeleteAh but you're a mum that's constantly doing stuff. Getting up, chasing, laundry---all of that. It all adds up. Whereas I have the benefit of theWife doing almost everything. Ha! Take that fate!
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