This morning, I weighed 222.0 pounds, and I intend to weigh less tomorrow. A person identified as “AS” Left a comment about my attempt to diet, after I revealed my age. Let me quote:
If you are [old], then why do you need to reduce weight? You should just sit in the easy chair, write good books like raven's gift and do blogging. Also, you should snack as much as you like and exercise only if you can. … you should take a well-deserved break as you must've done your share of work and exercise before.
My angry reaction was to rebut AS’s insinuations. Then it occurred to me that I’d been fooled by an ironic compliment. (I rather like it when I fall for someone else’s joke, as long as I don’t fall too far.) So first of all, thanks, AS for your comment (compliment?), which adds to my determination. And second, I’d like to rebut you as follows:
I refuse to be one of those old men who “have the right” to sit, snack and take it easy. I’ve seen their bodies in the men’s locker room, and I refuse to look like that! Not just for vanity. Those big round bellies and heavy, tremulous legs can’t be healthy.
I refuse to believe that only a certain amount of exercise is required in life. Among the matters my exercises attend to are: preserving my ability to lift a suitcase into the trunk of a car; improving my balance so that I won’t fall; and turning some of my fat into muscle. I’ll never play volleyball or touch football again, but old men need their muscles to work.
When I contemplate losing the next five pounds, I imagine that I have been carrying a five pound weight everywhere, and I shall at last be allowed to set it down. Ditto a ten pound weight. Just try carrying a ten pound weight around, and dream about NOT carrying it.