Jim Hillibish: On exercise ignorance

Jim Hillibish

This writing reminds me of my ex-neighbor who hired a company to mow his yard and shovel his snow so he would have time to exercise at his gym.

Do I need to explain this irony? Let’s blame infomercials for our exercise ignorance.

Nobody’s going to make a buck from snow shoveling except the guy who sold us the shovel, and that’s chump change. So you never, ever see shoveling as worthy cardiac flexing, which it is, within reason.

All we see is shoveling as a danger that will leave us dead on the sidewalk, buried by a snowplow. When I shovel, I think of this constantly. Still, I’ve never seen an obit listing snow shoveling as a cause of death.

Costly exercise

I know folks who pay a lot of money for a little exercise. One has all the miracle devices, balls and springboards. She gets more exercise carrying that stuff to the basement. Her only snow clearance is the path worn by the UPS man. She’s still fat.

Why do people despise exercise? It’s because it’s mind-numbing. I have an exercise bike. It’s against my religion to work so hard pedaling absolutely nowhere.

Perhaps more of us would exercise if it produced something more than sweat, such as saving us $35 a snowfall.

Amazingly, we’re already exercising and don’t know it.

A piece buried on page D-4 in Thursday’s edition about Mark Toorock confirms it. That’s a great name for an exercise man. So I continued reading.

Step up

Mark says forget the miracle diets and mechanical fat removal. Save your dough and exercise on something we all have -- stairs. Step, step, step.

That’s as good as Nordic Trac.

Mark is in this for the money. He has a gym consisting of sledgehammers, beer kegs, rocks and bald tires. I could gave guessed that.

“If something makes you fatigued, I’d call it exercise,” he says. How about reading stories on exercise?

My wife spends too much time watching out for my health. If I say, “Well, I’m off to shovel three tons of snow off the driveway,” she freaks.

If I say, “I’m off to do arm lifts in the brisk air,” she’d say, “Good for you,” and won’t check on me every 10 minutes.

Arm lifts, now that’s real exercise.

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