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Tuesday, February 28, 2006

 

Hurts So Good

Enjoying yourself is fine, but only if it is beneficial, or so moderate as to barely raise a brow of the meanest fitnik. This seems to be the prevailing message these days.

So many people I talk to feel the need to qualify any desultory indulgence they may participate in, and it drives me nuts. Why this need to explain anything that isn't deemed 'good' for you? Why does everything we do HAVE to be good for us? The answer of course is, it doesn't have to be good for us, but there are some who think it should.

Health is the latest social religion, or perhaps it more accurate to say, the latest class system, and believers are zealous in spreading the gospel of Mania, Lean, and Jog. The elite are of course the fit, the trim, the beautiful. The untouchables are people like me, who refuse to buy into the doctrine. There's been a significant shift in the last twenty or so years. Have you noticed how people aren't fat anymore? they're certainly not overweight--they're obese. Society is obligated to try and convert these individuals, if they refuse the doctrine, they should be looked down on, after all it's only their own slovenly choices that have put them in the 'class' they're in. Which brings me to the next part of my rant.

Underlying all these messages, all these beliefs, is that poor health is preventable. This is quite possibly true to some extent, but I'm watching with growing concern a movement in this country to qualify healthcare and there's a sinister undertone to it. Anyone who gets sick only has themselves to blame. It's also quite alright to blame them, to deny them... to look down on them as lesser than the vitamin popping, gym going brigade. After all, if the fitniks get sick it couldn't possibly be anything 'they' did wrong. And yet, I can't quite blame them entirely. It's an easy brainwashing pit to fall into.

Food ads are always pimping some latest, vitamin of the month, ingredient (right now it's omega 3). There are drugs for whatever ails ya, or better yet, drugs for what doesn't ail ya, (and if you take these drugs/vitamins it never will). A day doesn't go by when you're not being informed of a latest study on this or that, telling you (dare we say, proving) that Y may prevent (name anything), or Z greatly increases your chances of getting (name anything, but it's always juicier, if you use the C word).

So it's not terribly surprising, this need to excuse those other, less healthy choices, with so many messages being broadcast daily about our health and healthy living. But let's face it, guilt and I are barely nodding aquaintances, and it is beyond me to feel guilty or ashamed for enjoying this life I've been given. So, just so we're all clear, here are my most unguilty pleasures.

I eat fat. All sorts, and what the healthniks have done to the dairy section of our grocery stores is a crime against food (I'm sorry, if you actually think it's possible to have fat free yoghurt, you have no understanding of what yoghurt is, ditto milk & cream. Turn vegan. Take a freakin calcium tablet, but leave the dairy section alone).

I drink. Not a delicate glass or two of red wine over dinner either. I've been known to get roaring drunk. I've curled up around a toilet. I've phoned a friend at 3 am. I've even taken over a karaoke bar. And had a grand time doing it. (okay the toilet thing maybe not so much, but I sure enjoyed myself before that!)

I watch TV, unbelievably crappy TV. Yes, even those dreadful reality shows. Bite me. There's a very comfy dent in my couch to prove my TV watching prediliction.

I have done reckless things in my life, I may even have run with scissors, okay the last two, not so much a guilty pleasures, just proving that I don't live in an hermatically sealed bubble of health and wellness.

And that's my rant for the week.

X

Comments:
I'm DYING for a piece of frickin' cake. And I'm going to get it this weekend, dammit! Alas, though, I've failed you, dear Untouchable. I bought reduced fat chips. But, not from any desire to avoid fat. They were on sale and the others were too expensive. Being cheap trumps fat freedoms, lol.

Dee
 
You go, girl. I've been watching my weight, my fat intake, my cholesterol intake, my sodium intake, drinking water, and generaly doing all the things I'm supposed to do. I don't drink often and I don't smoke.

So, after being a good girl, I learned yesterday that I suffer from hypertension and that I need to take classes where a nutritionist will tell me I need to stop all things that are "bad" for me and survive on a diet of fat-free, cholesterol-free, sodium-free, taste-free gruel from for the rest of my life in addition to having to take blood pressure medication. So I went and ate a large dinner, complete with desert.

My father suffered from congestive heart failure -- it wasn't anything he could have prevented because he was doing everything he was supposed to. Just the way it fell out. He always said that when he had his first heart attack and bypass, some of the best cardio doctors in the world saved his life. The nutritionist then tried to kill him.

I'm a believer in moderation -- which means there are times when you must be very, very good and times when you need to be immoderate as hell. I'm still ordering the pizza for the Oscars and will sit on my butt all afternoon tomorrow snarking at the fashions of the early arrivals (we've got some great local snarkers here in LA who are doing a show, including a mad Scotsman). Why? Because it's fun and it's the Oscars and that's all the justification I need.
 
Back when I was teaching school, one of my most popular, prettiest, nicest students who was extremely active seemed to have everything going for her, and she had a massive stroke at age 18. Come to find out, she'd been on pills...for her complexion, her periods, her headaches, her sinuses, her hair & nails, and God knows what else. Trying to look her best, have the most energy...and it wound up almost killing her.

I wasn't much older than she was, but it hit me even back then: None of us are getting out here alive; most of us try to arrive at death's door safely; and we can sacrifice, scrimp, and deny ourselves all we like...but we're still gonna wind up the way we entered the world, damp and confused. Might as well have some great memories at the time and be happy while we're here doing what we want.

My 2 cents. Good post, X.
 
pchdxaYes, there is such a thing as food for the soul. I simply can't imagine only looking at food for it's nutritional value. weighing whether I'll eat it based on it's chemical composition and how it will break down and be absorbed into my biology.

Sorry, y'all will have to accept that these rants always follow a meltdown in the grocery store when the only thing available is fat reduced items (especially yoghurt. I haven't had yoghurt in years and it makes me really really testy)
 
I work out for purely selfish reasons. If I don't, my back hurts. Start working out again, back stops hurting. It's a simple carrot-and-stick.

I diet because of religious beliefs. I believe that when a man goes pee, he ought to be able to see his wiener.
 
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