Last week I chanced to see a friend of my baby sister’s whom I haven’t seen in years. Her name is Ayo or Eiya or something unconsonanted like that; I don’t know exactly because I wasn’t paying attention when we were introduced fifteen years ago and it’s too late to ask now. What’s-her-name was visibly surprised when she saw me. I’ve lost a lot of weight in the past few years; I weighed 270 lbs at my heaviest, and now I’m down to 170 . Sh asked how I’d done it, and I said that it was partly by diet but mostly by exercise. Laughing, She-Who-Has-No-Plosives asked if I was satisfied with my current weight, or was I going to shoot for supermodel status.
The answer to that question is nay, by the by. That’s partly because my ugly mug does not benefit from the attention of cameras (I’d post a picture to prove that but I don’t want any of y’all gouging out your eyes), but mostly because I don’t give a rip. I exercise as much as I do because diabetes has nearly killed me twice and I’m not giving it a third try. I keep myself on the treadmill and bicycle (and occasionally in the boxing ring) by muttering the complications that most frighten me in descending order (blindness … amputated limbs … stroke … death) over and over. But I’m never going to do the eleventy jillion situps required for six-pack abs, for instance, because hey, I wear suits everyday anyway, so who cares? For that matter, I wasn’t deliberately looking to lose weight when I decided to stick to an exercise routine; it was all about controlling blood sugar. Weight loss was just a fortunate side effect.
But I digress. Ms I-Will-Have-No-Consonants gave me the idea for a thread. Those of you who exercise regularly: what are you motives for doing so?
Poll in a moment, but don’t let that slow you down.