The Ironman

weightsI AM TRIM and, to all appearances, quite healthy for an old fart.

I attribute this to years of steady, light exercise, salads and a child bride. Don’t discount the latter.

In 1980, I weighed 60 pounds more than I weigh today. Oddly, I was not so much fat as formidable.

It was in that distant year in New Orleans — where I often would eat French fry po’ boys — that I decided to get trim and svelte.

Being fat is not an issue of hunger. It’s about habits and emotions. Services like Weight Watchers can address your bad habits, but they do little with your emotions, which is why 99 percent of overweight people get fat again soon after ending a weight-loss program.*

Of the two — habits and emotions — it’s emotions that play the primary role. They form the habits, after all.

Here’s how I took and kept off 60 pounds, and you can do it too. Well, except for those sneaky emotions.

I quit eating crap, and you know what the crap is: cakes, pies, burgers, Snickers, deep-fried anything, etc. You don’t need to buy a book that spells it out. It’s common sense.

And I started exercising. Twenty minutes of brisk walking five days weekly does it.  Thirty-five years later, I’m still at it.

Most folks start brutal exercise routines, weary of it within two weeks, and that’s the end of that. Don’t overreach.

In addition to walking, I do what my wife considers a laughable series of weight-lifting. That’s my weight machine in the photo. Three times a week, and it takes about 10 minutes.

I weigh what I weighed at age 21, half a century ago.

Before buying the weight apparatus, I visited a gym here three mornings a week, but the gym went out of business about five years back, so I purchased my setup at Liverpool in the capital city for the peso equivalent of about $600.

So there you have Felipe’s Foolproof Weight Loss System. Don’t eat crap, do light exercise five days a week (forever!) and marry a child bride, preferably Mexican.

You womenfolk can adjust that last element to your liking, but know that folks will gossip behind your back.

* * * *

*Don’t ever start a “diet” because they never work. The concept of a diet implies a beginning and — when you reach your “goal weight” — an end. When you end your diet, you start eating like you did before. And you get fat again. Never go on a diet. Instead, change your habits permanently.

Twelve things

  1. After two miserable weeks, my cold finally cured itself, and I’m my usual vigorous self. I wonder if these things hang on longer as one ages. Probably.
  2. An insane woman has been walking our neighborhood for a year or two. She seems to be in constant motion, and at times she lets out an angry, blood-curdling scream.
  3. We’re deep into miserable Springtime. Campesinos set fire to the countryside, an annual event, and black soot descends on the Hacienda. It’s a constant sweeping challenge, and sweeping soot is like herding butterflies.odds&ends
  4. We have two definite restaurant days: Thursday and Sunday. That doesn’t mean we can’t eat out on other days too because we can, but we usually don’t.
  5. There is one exception to No. 4, but I don’t really consider it eating out. It’s more of a convenience. On Saturdays, my wife is quite busy baking for her afternoon pastry sale. Before we head downtown with the goodies, we eat roasted chicken at a very humble place near the Hacienda.
  6. Heidi Cruz won’t be First Lady next year. Dang! Seems the Slovenian hussy will be. Or Slick Willy. Lordy!
  7. Former Mexican President Fox said nasty stuff about Trump a few months back, but now he’s apologized and invited Trump to Mexico to get to know us better.
  8. May is the final month to prepare the yard for the summer deluges. I’ll be hiring Abel the deadpan neighbor in a few days to cut and haul lots of stuff away. I want the yard in fighting trim before the floods arrive.
  9. Spring is the only good season for short-sleeved shirts. My pants, however, remain the same all year. Blue jeans.
  10. I’ll be 72 this summer. I’m noticing an occasional unsteadiness in my walk, wobbly-like. This is relatively new, and I do not like it one little bit.
  11. With every passing year, I like Mexico more. Not having been in the United States for seven years now, and not having lived there in 16, I’m forgetting what Gringo life is like. From what I read, perhaps that’s for the best.
  12. According to an article in The New York Times, bilingual people are less likely to get goofy with age. ¡Bueno!