Endless Ends

Day Three.

Otherwise known as Dante's ninth circle of hell.

Treachery.

Self treachery.

I want a better circle. Who do I have to talk to get access to the second circle, next life-time around?


Omg. I am so out of shape! Stiff, and sore, and cranky. At day three. This does not bode well….

*cries a little*
 
Aaaaaaaand, once again I launch into my annual rant about BMI.

Normally I ride the bottom end of what the charts say is an acceptable weight. If I’m running a 10K three times a week I’m usually a couple of pounds underweight.

That’s normal for me. I am tallish, slim, and very small boned.

Today I had my annual health check up (insurance purposes).

I am on the pudgy side these days. (Thank you, Covid. :rolleyes:) Pudgy enough that none of my usual clothes currently fit. Pudgy enough that I started walking rather than diving straight into running when I started getting back into shape. (Gotta take care of those joints. :p)

Yet. Pudged up I have a *great* BMI.

I could, technically, be 40 pounds over my normal, healthy weight - and still have a *great* BMI.

No never mind that I’d wheeze if I tried to walk up the stairs, ‘cause hey, BMI numbers would be the bomb.




I can’t tell you why this infuriates me so, but I will die mad on this subject. 😂
 
I think the numbers game that doctors play is total bullshit. I can’t imagine how, in any universe, your BMI has any meaning at all. Unless your pool is overfilled and you’re about to slip in—then your BMI may be relevant.

To me, and I’m probably wrong (even though I’m not), it’s the equivalent to how tall you are when you wake up in the morning and how tall you are before bed—the number changes, but it has absolutely no meaning whatsoever.

The way your clothes fit and how out of breath you are, after stairs, is a far more important number. At least according to Dr. Hotwords.

I also DO NOT recommend using a chainsaw to adjust your BMI!
 
Aaaaaaaand, once again I launch into my annual rant about BMI.

Normally I ride the bottom end of what the charts say is an acceptable weight. If I’m running a 10K three times a week I’m usually a couple of pounds underweight.

That’s normal for me. I am tallish, slim, and very small boned.

Today I had my annual health check up (insurance purposes).

I am on the pudgy side these days. (Thank you, Covid. :rolleyes:) Pudgy enough that none of my usual clothes currently fit. Pudgy enough that I started walking rather than diving straight into running when I started getting back into shape. (Gotta take care of those joints. :p)

Yet. Pudged up I have a *great* BMI.

I could, technically, be 40 pounds over my normal, healthy weight - and still have a *great* BMI.

No never mind that I’d wheeze if I tried to walk up the stairs, ‘cause hey, BMI numbers would be the bomb.




I can’t tell you why this infuriates me so, but I will die mad on this subject. 😂
I do not think BMI is an accurate measurement of your health. I remember in the old days they used to take a caliper to see how much fat they could grab and measure it that way.
 
My chainsaw plans were foiled by Good Friday and store half days.

FOILED

S'okay. Chainsaw. Tomorrow.

What did I do instead, you ask? Why, it's mowing season. And I might have been just a teeeeeensy bit behind.

Five hours. I now reward myself by watching Spider Baby (1967). :p
 
Five hours? Did you mow your neighborhood?

Oh, goodness. No way I could mow my *neighborhood* in five hours! 😂

This was about four acres, but not all of it's flat, and some of it had to be done more than once*, and one section was extra time consuming as I'm slowly reclaiming the floor of a wooded area that's run amok.


*as mentioned, I might be a little behind. :p
 
Gas chainsaw procured.

Not used, but procured. Too, too, too much clearing to do to get to the stuff that requires the larger chainsaw.

I. Am. Exhausted.

There are days I ponder a return to the city. High rises, nice restaurants, city views, places to wear my expensive shoes. Not to mention the lovely, lovely maintenance people. :p



This country living is hard on a girl.

*toodles off to find a horror movie*
 
Back
Top