Working Out

My father was never athletic, and for my entire childhood and adulthood, he was probably 30-40 pounds overweight. He hated fish, and LOVED meat -- especially corned beef sandwiches on rye. He also loved sweets. When he worked as a salesman, I'd find Cadbury chocolate bars in the glove box of his Caddy or Oldsmobile. "In case of emergency," he'd explain. Well he retired at age 60, and a year or so later was diagnosed as nearly Type II diabetic. So he cut out the sweets, and started a strict exercise regimen -- fast walking around the cell blocks of his condo -- dodging cars in the parking lot. (I always think the architects who designed Kings Point in Delray ought to be indicted in the court of architecture for making a retirement village so ugly and walking unfriendly). Soon my Dad was in the best shape since he was a soldier in WW II. He was 50 lbs lighter. And then he dropped dead, at 63. So I've always been somewhat reticent about getting into "shape." But after I wheezed walking up the ramps at Soldier Field in Chicago in October -- I decided to act. I started with Susan the Trainer in December, and I am feeling much better. I'm still overweight, but as I like to say, fat but strong! I'm bench pressing 150 lbs, and doing 130 sit ups per session. I do feel great. Today, Susan showed me off to another trainer -- Olga, a non appearance challenged lady from Venezuala. Olga ran her hands over my upper chest and said in Charo-like accent: "Oh yes--I see much improvement." So clearly I'm going to keep up with the workouts, but hope I get a very different result from Dad. Then again, I have Crestor -- he died before statins were available.