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Fatigue Makes Fatties Of Us All

May 9, 2016

I am not good at not doing things.

Since I have never seen the merit in drugs or drinking alone, that means doing things has been my go-to addiction. You would think activity would lobby for body mass stasis: but for us in the BMI Danger Zone, anything and everything mitigates for Mass Creep: Except exercising more and eating less (or at least fewer calories.)

So when I have the week of a double Red Eye here, all day drive to 8 sites/clients there, round out by 17 meetings and a couple of thousand words to write you would think it would be easy to simply eat as needed, exercise as possible and maintain: Not True.

The stress of stress makes my mouth exercise compensate for the the times when the source of stress and its special exhaustion friend, eating, do a dance with a recumbent bike frozen in rejection to layer lard upon lard.

Oh, I know stress makes your body horde calories in fight-or-flight prep, I know that any day I do not work out is a day I can gain more weight. But my entire 3 score years and 8 months have seen me swim in stress since I was born: first inflicted by my parents, then handed off to myself in later life.

Its not the stress, stupid: its that stress simulates actual physical exhaustion: when all I have done is simply gnarled out, not worked out. Anxiety does not have a high calorie burn rate, or leave behind muscle mass that banks a fire of calories that burn in a happy glow when I am not exercising.

Stress and its fatigue is the Trojan Horse of legitimizing inactivity and eating crap in the convenient confusion of its fatigue without the legit exhaustion of actual exertion – and it bloats my bod.

Life is often just seeing the difference between what you want to matter and what actually matters. I have to get things done: its my psychological skeleton, both in the closet and out in the world – but when I simply want to ignore not exercising and eating a bit of this or that when the reality of overload must be served I lie yo myself. Again.

It takes Missional Devotion to do more than the minimum. Whether its filling a hole of pathetic need or going the right thing, running to things that must be done has been the way I breath. Unfortunately its also the way I eat like a pig.

Perspective may be in shorter supply than people you can vote for, but absent it, I get fat(ter). Its hard to have a metronome of common sense when you are dancing as fast as you can.

Meter is, for me, harder to find than melody. My sons tell me I sing too loudly, which, given my abilities compounds the impact of said abilities.

But sometimes perspective is just in the mirror.

Actually it always is, one way or another.

3 Comments leave one →
  1. May 10, 2016 1:26 pm

    After a pre-diabetes diagnosis with 50 lbs of excess weight, I enlisted the help of Dr. Allie Mendelson of the Talcott Mtn Family Chiropractic in Farmington. They belong to the Maximized Living group of clinics that nutritionally advise and treat our Olympic athletes.

    First and foremost they recommend relinquishing sugar. That sounds daunting to a sweetooth like me, but a ton of her patients told me it is not at all as difficult as imagined. They were right.

    Simply changing to real food and giving up sugar provoked the effortless loss of weight, the loss of arthritis, a tremendous energy generation (feel like I’m in my 20’s, but in reality I am 61), and a loss of mind fog in exchange for clarity and focus.

    Here’s what happened: my clothes kept getting bigger on me and I kept feeling better and better. After this I moved back to VA (we met in Madison when I was painting on the side of the road. (By the way I have a show on display now in Richmond with a ptg entitled “Duo’sView”–will send you a photo.)) and have been working 10-hour days for Amazon, walking 15 mi per day. Doc says I have the physiology of a 40 yr old. And it’s wild. These young guys who could be grand kids express inappropriate interest in someone who could be their grandma. Silly boys.

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