Reasons to Lose Weight

I figure that most everybody’s got their mind on the “polar vortex” that has us, you know, a little cooled off right now.  I like a little cool weather with our southern winters, but hey, a few days at fifty degrees fills the bill just fine.  We don’t need this polar stuff.  I hope your pipes and faucets and car engines and you all survive.

Another thing that a lot of us have on our minds at the start of the new year is losing a few pounds and getting into a little better shape.  I wrote the column below back in October of 2012.  I was sure that it was going to make me change my ways.  Maybe I should re-read it every day.

Reasons to lose weight:

I would lower my chance to get diabetes.  I would lower my blood pressure.  I would lower my chance for a stroke.  I would lower my chance for heart disease.  I might could get off of blood pressure medicine.  I could save 12 dollars a month on blood pressure medicine; hey, that’s 144 dollars a year.  I would lower my chance for getting sleep apnea and having to do that horrible test where they hook you up to everything they can find to hook you up to and then expect you to sleep all night in some strange place.  I wouldn’t have to take that pill for heartburn, and I could save that 7 dollars a month; hey, that’s 84 dollars a year.  I would lower my chance of getting (more) arthritis in the “weight bearing joints.”  I would lower my chances for getting cancer; according to an article I read, this includes esophageal, thyroid, colon, kidney, gallbladder, rectal, skin, breast, pancreatic, and blood (leukemia) cancers, and a few more.  Hmm, that would be good.  My bad cholesterol numbers would be lower, and I could save that 12 dollars a month on cholesterol medicine that the doctor just put me on; hey that’s—well you know.

I would look better in shorts.  I would look better when I have to wear a swimsuit—hey, it would have to be better.  I would look better in my umpire uniform.  I would just look better.  I wouldn’t have to wear size 42 pants, or that pair of 44s I have.  I could wear those 4 suits I got from Hudson’s Salvage back in 2007.  All my extra-large shirts would be really comfortable.  I wouldn’t have to wear any double extra-large shirts where the sleeves are always too long.  I could wear those big-made large shirts that I have.  I would have a whole new wardrobe—of clothes I had to quit wearing and have never thrown away.

I could get in and out of my car easier.  When I sit in a booth at a restaurant, I would have plenty of room between the back of the seat and the edge of the table.  I would fit better in an airplane seat; people wouldn’t dread sitting by me, and it would be a lot easier to buckle my seat belt.  If I ever go back to the top of the St. Louis Arch, I’d have enough room to breathe in that little egg thing that they send you up in.  If I ever go to another baseball, football, or basketball game, or a concert where they have little individual seats, I wouldn’t have to scrunch all up and be uncomfortable all the time.  It would be a whole lot easier to get up out of my lounge chair.

I could breathe better when I go walking.  I could breathe better when I try to ride my bicycle.  I could breathe better when I tie my shoes.  I could tie my shoes easier.  I could just breathe better.  And I wouldn’t run out of energy so easily.  I could play with my nephews without burning out so quickly.  My red blood cells would carry more oxygen throughout my body, and I would have more stamina. I could swim without having to stop to get my breath after swimming one length of the pool.

I wouldn’t have to carry as much weight on my feet and legs.  My left knee wouldn’t hurt as bad, and I might could put off knee replacement surgery, maybe forever. My feet wouldn’t hurt as bad.  My ankles wouldn’t hurt as bad.  I probably wouldn’t get that cramp that I get in the right side of my back when I stand up for more than 2 hours.  My arms and hands and fingers probably wouldn’t get all swollen either when I stand up for more than 2 hours.

Certain unnamed bodily functions would probably function better.

I would feel more like exercising.  I could walk better.  I might even could run—make that jog—more than a hundred feet.  I could run—maybe walk—some of them “5ks” and get some t-shirts for it.  I could ride my bicycle 20, 30, even 50 miles in one day—like I used to be able to do.  I could even get into some of those bicycle rides where they give you a t-shirt for it.  I might be able to walk up more than 2 flights of stairs.  I could play golf better, maybe, but not much.  I would be a better umpire because I wouldn’t be as tired, and I wouldn’t be hurting all the time.  I could start hiking again when I go to the mountains.  I could walk longer and quicker and see more if I ever get to go to New York again.

Reason(s) not to lose weight:

I like to eat.