By Burt Ross
I recently had a medical procedure, and my doctor strongly advised me to stop any and all heavy lifting. It instantly occurred to me that my doctor didn’t have a clue who his patient was, or he would never have suggested that I cease heavy lifting. Understand that to cease doing something, you have to have first done it. It’s a bit like finding your hat when you have been wearing it all along and, therefore was never lost.
The simple fact is I ceased doing heavy lifting at my birth. I have nothing against heavy lifting so long as it is done by others. The chances of my doing heavy lifting after my medical procedure, of course, were nil. To be perfectly honest, I am not especially fond of light lifting either.
My doctor also advised me against any strenuous activity. He needn’t have warned me since that box was already checked. I am as opposed to strenuous activity as I am to heavy lifting. You see, it is the word “strenuous” that I am not a fan of. Strenuous suggests strain, and I see no value in straining myself.
The more I think about it, the more I realize that I don’t particularly care for any kind of exercise unless you consider transporting food from the plate to the mouth as exercise. I know there are those who proudly calculate every step they walk, go to the gym each day, run marathons, and so forth, but I believe all this exercise is vastly overrated.
I actually knew a man who died on the treadmill. That will never happen to me. How many times do people collapse after running a marathon? You won’t see me collapse after taking a nap or lying in the hammock.