I went in for my yearly check-up last week and I have been feeling like I am finally starting to feel my age. I just don't seem to be able to do some of the things I was, in recent memory, able to do. Or if I am able to do them, I just feel slow and uncoordinated (I am sure some of you reading this are already saying "Weren't you always slow and uncoordinated"). Needless to say, I haven't felt unhealthy. In fact, I feel like I eat healthier then almost everybody that I know. Mrs B and I have nearly cut all processed food out of our diet, and we are eating far less meat then we have in the past. Most of our friends just chalk this up to our liberal tendencies, but in reality we have just been influenced by a number of things we have read or watched. I know that I am going to get older and my body isn't going to be able to hold up to the rigors of soccer and running forever, but I am trying to string that along as long as I possibly can.
Having three kids under the age of three means that I don't have a ton of time to workout. All that being said, when I went to see Dr. Goodbody (Mrs B calls him that) I had an unexpected experience. In preparation for seeing the good Dr, you have to do all the normal medical foreplay activities with the cheerless nurse. She took my height and weight, asks me the standard questions about life style, casting a dubious eye my way when I said that I only had a glass of wine per night. "What, you think I am lying? I am sure that most people you know with three babies at home don't have time to drink - but we each have to find ways to prioritize." I have actually gotten quite good at balancing a baby bottle with my moobs (man-boobs) while leaving the other hand free to hold a lovely glass of Two Buck Chuck. Once the nurse has finished with the questions, she leaves, and indicates that I need to strip down do we can do my EKG. When the nurse returns, she brings in a buddy (medical student), who must have been icing down her hands before being called in to put little band-aids all over me. Interestedly enough, the nurse said that if I my legs amputated, one of the probes would have to go on my groin instead of somewhere on my leg....seemed like a bit of an over-share but who am I to judge.
Having passed my EKG with flying colors, I settled in for the long way for the good doctor. He came in and we talked for a few minutes. He then looked at my chart and said "That can't be right" and rushed out of the room. Not the kind of thing you want to hear at the doctor's office. He came back and was holding what appeared to be an extra large XBox controller, but I knew from my experience with the disapproving nurse, that it actually measured body fat or mass, or maybe both. The good doctor proceeded to tell me that according to the measurements of the nurse, I was borderline overweight (i.e. fat) - but he didn't think that was a good reading, so we were going to redo. The second result you ask.......exactly the same....DAMN. Well at this point the good doctor tells me this really isn't an exact measurement, and according to everything else I was in great health. Now don't get me wrong, it is always good when your doctor is willing to make excuses, but if I was being truly honest, all I heard was ......."blah, blah, blah you will be just fine Mr. FatA$, blah blah blah"
So, in what may have been a brilliant use of reverse psychology, I am considering a number of ways to get back down to Fighting Weight - but I think that I will ultimately fall back on the old standby "the Matrix of Buffness" - if you want a peace of the action let me know.
Update: Just heard back from the nurse, and she said that everything is well within the normal range except my "Good" cholesterol - which was really low. In her cheery little voice told me that all I needed to do was exercise more. I asked if the good doctor also provided babysitting so that his patients could exercise. She indicated she didn't think so.