At one point of my life I thought DNA made me fat. I was very young then and it seemed to me my extra pounds were the result of a random inheritance, like green eyes or height. My father was big, both my grandmothers were heavy and one of my uncles could be described as “comfortably cuddly”. Of course that meant my sister, my mother, and my other relations had been gifted with the “skinny” gene, so I figured I had no choice in the matter. Mama got rid of those illusions. Fat happened when more calories went in than energy went out, she said, and pointed out that my svelte little sister was one of those children that never stood still. Once I started eating less and moving more, my days as a fatty would be over. Well, they weren’t. I started a multitude of diets, upped my exercise and periodically lost hundreds of pounds through the years, all of which returned with interest each time my newest reduction plan stopped. It got so I was miserable while I was losing weight, obsessed by every calorie and scale-revealing ounce and I was even more miserable fat. My eating habits…
Well, another Belmont race has been run and America’s flirtation with horse-racing has been put away for another year. Sure, there are thousands of people who spend their lives breathing and living for horse racing but lots more limit their equine attention-span to the Kentucky Derby and focus on the Belmont only if the winner stands to win the Triple Crown (rare) or beat Secretariat’s Belmont time (Impossible, as far as I’m concerned). Of course when that rare instance occurs, civilians like myself love to debate who the truly great horses were/are and who would win if we could time-transport them all to a single race. My late mom adored Man O’ War just as fervently as my husband still roots for Secretariat and, thanks to Laura Hillenbrand, Seabiscuit again has an army of followers. People I respect in Europe talk about Frankel. All of these were incredible racers but for horses with a story, I have to give my thanks to Geoff Armstrong and Peter Thompson for introducing me to Phar Lap. He’s the great racing heart of Australia. Like most heroes, Australia’s “Wonder Horse” had unlikely beginnings. The yearling came from a sire and dam with great blood…
I was born to be a Sedentarian. I’m not sure that’s a recognized word yet but when I’ve seen it used, it describes (obvious, isn’t it?) someone who prefers walking to running, standing to walking, sitting to standing and lying down to sitting. Someone who loathes the idea of exercise. When you add in an addiction to books, sedentarianism becomes more than a preference, it becomes the path to salvation. Only problem is, it can be detrimental to your health. Right now, you are looking at my library, complete with desk, PC and reading chair. Comfy as all get out but not a site adapted for getting in shape. So what’s to be done? I have to read and until today, that mean I had to sit still. (Every time I’ve tried to read with the body in motion, I’ve contracted an epic-sized bout of motion-sickness.) I’m under doctor’s orders to lose some weight and I’m trying to comply but exercise isn’t just sweaty and painful, it’s boring, a factor no bouncing paperback or Kindle could overcome. And there’s the answer, friends and neighbors, I needed book that doesn’t bounce and I got one. Does anyone besides me remember Kindle…