Niiiiiice...

Have you ever seen an ex out with a new boyfriend/girlfriend and thought, "That's supposed to be an improvement over me???"

Yeah, I'm having one of those weeks already.

It's the Fat, Fattiest Time of the Year...

It's the fat, fattiest season of alllllll.
There'll be much diet blowing
And metabolisms slowing
So pass me a beeeeeeer!!
It's the fat, fattiest tiiiime of the yeeeaarrrrrr!!!


Strap yourselves in, because I'm about to throw a bunch of statistics at you. The following are from the American Obesity Association:

• Approximately 127 million adults in the U.S. are overweight, 60 million obese, and 9 million severely obese.
• Currently, 64.5 percent of U.S. adults, age 20 years and older, are overweight and 30.5 percent are obese.
• At a minimum, half of all age groups are overweight and at least 20 percent are obese.

Check the web site out. The tables alone are jaw-dropping. With this in mind, I went looking for holiday weight gain statistics. What I found was rather surprising.

From the December 2006 issue of Muscle & Fitness: A study was conducted by the National Institutes of Health on 195 individual of various ages, activity levels and socioeconomic backgrounds. They found that most only gained 0.8 lbs during the holiday season. Fewer than 10% gained 5 lbs or more and those that did were likely to be overweight to begin with.

WHOOHOO!!! Pass the gravy! Less than a pound??? Are they kidding? Ah, but there's a hitch. They measured these subjects again the next year and found that most of them hadn't lost that holiday weight. If you add that to the average yearly adult gain, that group had an average increase of 1.4 lbs. Still sounds like a pretty good deal though, huh? Less than two pounds a year. But I'm not buying it. Look at those figures from the AOA. We aren't getting rid of that 1.4 lbs and we're obviously putting on more than that too. Maybe it's not during the holidays like we all think, but we're still not a nation that's moving enough.

Which brings things back to me. I've discovered the magic word for getting myself to exercise again. ACCOUNTABILITY There's no one here at home to hold me accountable and this blog isn't read and commented on enough for me to feel accountable here either. So, what to do, what to do.....

Oddly enough, I think I've found the answer in my father. I've been worried about Dad since this summer. He's put on a lot of weight and that's usually the early warning sign that the depression that runs in our family is starting to set in. He's looked awful the past few weeks and he has had the flu, but this is something else. Something he can't seem to shake and talking to him about going to therapy is like talking to a brick wall. I read recently in Fitness about a study conducted by the University of Texas Southwestern Medical Center that stated any aerobic activity done for thirty minutes 3-5 times a week reduced the symptoms of depression by nearly 50%. I immediately thought of Dad, but I also thought of myself. Winter has been mild thus far, but I know my Seasonal Affective Disorder is starting to kick in and, as I've discussed in my last few entries, I've been voting and bitching, but not exercising.

SO, today is Dad's birthday and we're going to celebrate it by beginning an exercise program together! We may not feel accountable to anyone else, but at least a couple of nights a week, we'll be accountable to one another. Stay tuned. There may be pictures. ;P

Better Dead than Red

I just had to link to this. I thought it was hilarious.

This is how pissed off Americans really are.

If You're Not Paying Attention...

Please read this. Just read it. I knew we weren't being told and shown everything, but I didn't realize how much until I read that. Then, read this and understand why we aren't making any headway.


Then go out tomorrow and VOTE!

Whine with No Cheese.

My favorite pants that used to be so loose on me are tight again. I haven’t walked to break a sweat in over a week. I did the new squat routine once and could barely walk or get up from a chair for a week. My shoulder is still bothering me. Oats are a distant memory. I’ve had pizza four meals in a row. There is a candy bar containing 40% of my daily value of saturated fat and a bag of jelly beans sitting in front of me right now.

I have officially fallen off the wagon.

And been run over by it.

Twice.

Damn.