Like Jack Lalanne, I have always been an active person. I began studying karate at four years old. I trained for six years, 3 to 5 days a week, sometimes taking 2 classes a day. But having broken too many wooden boards, as well as young hearts on the karate tournament circuit, I replaced my black-belt with a football helmet, a basketball jersey, a lacrosse stick, boxing gloves, a surfboard, and a mountain bike. You get the point. These activities recently played out in my head as I watched a commercial sponsored by the NFL, directed at curbing childhood obesity. The aim of the advertisement was to encourage children to “play” 60 minutes a day (the length of an NFL game). Now without bogging you down with statistics about obesity in this country, all of which are gruesome, I’d like to shed light on another demographic that I think is enabling this problem:
Lazy Adults.
We all remember what it was like to “play”, right? Surely some of our childhood routines involved riding a bike to school, hour long gym classes, sports practice, and all kinds of after school activities. I myself was forced to cut out academics entirely to meet the demands of my playful existence. At 14, I remember having a fitness assessment that failed to produce my body fat percentage because it was too low for the electronic device to register. But how much of this can simply be attributed to my age and metabolism? How much can be based on the fact that I took countless hours of karate, juggled 4 sports during the year, and surfed 3 hours a day in the summer? Lastly, how much can be placed on the fact that I had both active and positive adult role models in my life, and in my imagination (Lawrence Taylor and Mike Tyson come to mind…)?
My mother took karate with my brother and I. I remember her hurting herself kicking a heavy bag in our basement like a maniac. I have photos of her hauling in a huge striped bass and kayaking in a wetsuit. My father regularly took my brother and I swimming, hiking, fishing, and played sports with us at the park. His current routine involves hitting the gym 6 days a week, and he’s missed less than 5 days in the last 3 years. We owned sporting equipment, and it didn’t collect dust. When I moved to Nantucket, the first thing my stepfather bought me was a beat up surfboard. After patching it up together, we spent every evening paddling in the Atlantic Ocean. In the winters, we boxed together at the Boys and Girls Club.
Sometimes “playing” was fun, but a lot of times it wasn’t. I dreaded sports practice, no exceptions. I hated running wind sprints, showering with my friends, and being told I lacked “pride”. But I showed up, day after day. Back then they actually made you change into gym clothing and participate in gym class. Unlike many adults, I didn’t take days off because I was sore or didn’t “feel” good. I wasn’t an acceptable excuse to say I had a really stressful math class. I can remember throwing up during football practice and continuing to practice afterward on an empty stomach. Fuck it, it’s what we did.
It takes effort to be fit and healthy. But that effort is invaluable in its rewards. It’s no secret that diet and exercise are key components of healthy living, but we fail to realize that “giving a shit” and “doing things you don’t want to do” are the other half of the equation. I could empathize with those who claim that exercise grows harder with age, but that’s disrespectful to people who continue to work hard throughout their years (my grandpa Doug taught me to rollerblade and played lacrosse with me in his late 70s). Perhaps the king of playing though is my stepfather, Ron. At 59, he traded in his hip for a new one, and was forced to replace the surfboard with a surf kayak… Poor guy. Every time we talk, he jokes with me about my weight. He is well aware that many people my age fall prey to the tempations of their new found freedom and disposable income. “So what are you fat these days?” he might ask bluntly. Maybe he’s busting my chops, but what he’s really saying is: “you better not be”.
Obesity, or fatness as we once called it, is a topic that I find extremely important yet difficult to address. It has become increasingly taboo to discuss obesity, for fear of being offensive or insensitive. But the fact that this is because people are becoming increasingly obese should be a concern. I wrestled with this post (it burns more calories than struggling) for fear of hurting my friends and loved ones. But this is my opinion. I think that bad foods are extremely addictive, deadly, and yet, tolerated substances. We are equally dependent on our excuses that insulate us from exercise and play. But as adults, if we can restore our own playful natures, I believe we can set a standard for future healthy and fit generations. If you consider that the possibilities are limitless for your own play, no longer regulated by an oppressive gym teacher or butch cheerleading coach, we can enjoy our playtime like we never have before. Or we can put it off until next week.
