It is January, my least favorite month of the year. Time for those ridiculous resolutions many of us make and rarely keep. If one of your soon-to-be broken promises falls under the heading “get fit now,” it’s no wonder.
Living in Colorado can be detrimental to your self-esteem if you don’t ski, bike, hike, swim, walk, run, rock climb, play tennis, lift weights, practice yoga or participate in any group activity such as aerobic dance, step class or team sports.
And, if you have the bad luck to be more than five pounds overweight, your troubles are compounded. Those of us without a valid gym membership or who own tennis shoes that have never pounded the pavement at one of our many city parks, are made to feel, by friend, family, foe and self alike, that we are somewhat less than first class citizens of this fair state. Yes, the “Colorado Fitness Police” are alive and thriving – especially in January.
The “Fitness Police” understand the herd mentality that rises to the fore every January. Bloated from too much holiday cheer, we are easy prey for the onslaught of advertisements and commercials that promise a “new you in the new year.”
Feeling overweight and sluggish, it is difficult to ignore the barrage of cleverly worded enticements that urge us to sign on the dotted line for a 12-month gym membership or enroll in a diet program that guarantees to vanquish those newly acquired pounds in a few scant weeks.
When January rolls around, and I mean that both literally and figuratively, many of us are more than ready to pluck down our hard-earned dollars for the opportunity to beat our bodies to a pulp and starve ourselves senseless in a valiant effort to get in shape.
Unfortunately, by February most of those gym membership cards will be languishing in a drawer along with used rubber bands and an assortment of other odds and ends. As for the diet, well, suffice to say that hunger trumps good intentions every time. But it is too late: the money is gone, but the excess pounds remain.
It is interesting to note that on July 10, 2009, Colorado was named the leanest state in the nation for the third year in a row. We have the exclusive honor of being the only state with an obesity rate under 20 percent (we clock in at 18.9) according to a report from the Trust for America’s Health and the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation.
And, although I am proud of Colorado and know that such a commendation can only enhance her reputation as a stellar place to work and live, I am troubled by the pressure this puts on the shoulders of those of us struggling to reach, let alone maintain, such a high standard.
Following the announcement of this important achievement for our state, an article in Backpacker Magazine echoed my exact sentiments: “Colorado’s abundance of outdoor activities and generally awesome weather create perfect opportunities for healthy living – and even if you’re not really into it, your friends, coworkers, neighbors, and relatives are bound to shame you into working on your inner fitness.” I rest my case.
On a more personal note, let me say that it’s not that I don’t exercise. I do. And it’s not that I don’t watch my calories. Again, I do (about 75.5 percent of the time).
But, if a truth squad were to hold my feet to the flame, I would have to admit (a) that to impress my friends and family, I sometimes embellish the facts regarding the actual amount of time spent on my at-home exercise equipment, (b) that the picture of me grunting and gasping after a mere 30 minutes of semi-strenuous activity is not a very attractive one (hence the real reason my workouts are always in the privacy of my own house) and (c) that I traded in my teeny weenie tennis togs and dance leotards years ago and now work out in comfy sweat clothes from the clearance rack at a local discount store. Age and attitude do have their advantages, as some of you may know.
For a change of pace, I have decided that this year my resolution is to not make any diet or exercise resolutions at all. After decades of failed attempts to honor said promises, I have decided instead to turn my attention to a more realistic endeavor such as cleaning out the ubiquitous cabinet drawer of long expired gym membership cards and copies of diet program registrations. Doing so will clearly be a much more productive use of my time.
Suzanne Handler (suzannehandler@gmail.com) is a retired mental health educator living in Greenwood Village. EDITOR’S NOTE: This is an online-only column and has not been edited.
