3/22/03
I just got off the phone with Michelle.
She called to tell me that the news I wrote on 3/18 made her cry.
I tried to convince her that I didn't intend to make her sad. I really thought it was kind of funny. The term, "man boobs" is always funny (unless you've got 'em, and nobody I know has them).
Anyway, now she's determined to get me into shape. I think she's planning to assault me each morning, via telephone, to get me out of bed and out pounding the pavement. What's even more scary is that, for some reason, Michelle thinks I want to complete an Ironman.
This is not the case.
Michelle, I love you. I'm sorry I made you cry. Your phone call did indeed inspire me. I've got some goals and with words of encouragement like yours, I know I'll get serious about them soon. But I really don't want to swim 2.4 miles, bike 112 miles and run 26.2 miles in a single day. Like I said, we'll leave that insanity to Dad. Okay? I just wanted to reassure you, and everyone else, that I'm not on the verge of a coronary episode and I wanted to thank you for caring so much.
Thanks.
I have to admit, though. Michelle's call really got me thinking about how I've been living lately.
Do you remember the movie Alien?
In that movie, the crew members of the space ship would place themselves in "stasis" so that they could sleep for months or even years. The ability to go to sleep for extended periods would make the very long trips across the galaxy seem short.
Now, I'm sure the main reason this sticks with me is because of the scene at the end of the movie when Sigourney Weaver strips down to next to nothing before climbing into her "Stasis Pod". Then she has to battle one of the aliens in her underwear before she can get some rest. Debbie and I have actually reenacted this scene from time-to-time, but that's beside the point.
The point is, I believe that there are portions of our home that have become "Stasis Pods".
Some days, when people at work ask me what I did the night before, I can't remember anything.
Some Mondays, when I try to remember what I did during the weekend, my mind is a blank.
That's got to be the stasis pod at work.
I've looked throughout the house for some sort machine. I thought I'd find something that's hooked up to the HVAC system that, when activated, places us into a trance-like state for four to six hours after we come home from work and before we go to bed.
The only thing I've found that comes close to a device like that is the TV.
I'm not saying we watch a lot of TV. In fact, I think we're at all time lows when it comes to the amount of time we spend in front of the tube. Lately I think I've done a good job when it comes to steering myself and my family toward activities other than TV viewing. And this is even after I installed a home theater in the basement.
Please don't misunderstand. I love television. I'm not one of those people that says, "We never watch television. In fact, we own one, but it's placed outside of the house, in a shed. And then we only unlock the shed to watch when there's a Ken Burns documentary on PBS."
We're definitely not snobby when it comes to TV. It's played a huge role in my life (I cried when we lost Mr. Rogers). It just seems that, for the most part, we're wasting precious time and we're doing it while we sit on our butts.
So the TV, not all the French fries, soft drinks and pizza, is making us fat?
Yes. Plus it puts our brains into park and effectively dissolves our evenings into each other so that one seems like the next.
That's not good.
What am I going to do about it?
Probably not a lot. But I could, every now and again, hop back on to the treadmill while I watch TV.
The treadmill isn't big enough for all four of us. That means that Deb, Allie and the baby will have to find other means of exercise.
I'm told house work burns a lot of calories...