I didn't realize it at first but I've lived my life in a certain way. Now that I'm more or less middle-aged, I think it's safe to come out of the closet and speak on this topic a bit. I didn't have far to go out of said closet, as anyone who knows me will attest.
As I tell people who expect me to lift boxes, "I'm a knowledge worker. Lift it yourself."
You see, my enemy is out there in plain sight: it's exercise. I don't believe in it. It's foul and evil and all the rest of that kind of stuff that brings people out into the streets to violate the rights of others.
Let's face it: if you run, you get a heart attack and die. If you swim, you get a heart attack, drown and die. Do you really want that for yourself? I sure as hell don't.
It all happened at the doctor last week. Before I had a chance to lecture him on keeping patients (specifically this one) waiting for close to an hour, he said I needed to exercise. I told him I lift one hundred ninety pounds every morning: I get out of bed. Not flustered at all, he said that was insufficient.
I told him I walk all day at work. No good.
He suggested I walk the dog. I suggested that's what fenced yards are for.
Undaunted, he told me to walk inside the fence with the dog.
You have to admire the inventiveness and sheer tenacity of the learned doctor, not to mention his willingness to screw with me.
Then he pulled out the Big Guns<tm>: if I didn't exercise, he would prescribe additional medicine. I reminded him that the last time he tried that, I learned a new word [akathisia - technical term for ants in your pants or skin crawling], which required two additional medicines to quiet down.
I only had one card left.... the last physician who suggested I exercise had to deal with the description of what happened when I tried. How I watched the seconds portion of the display until my time was done. How I sweated, groaned, then took a nap afterward. He told me that it didn't seem worth it and I should stop exercising, if it caused me that much grief.
New Doc remained unimpressed.
So now I have to farking exercise.
He said all I had to do was ten or fifteen minutes of walking daily. It was no big deal; he does it. I reminded him that he was not morally opposed to exercise, as was I. He sat there and continued to stare at me as if I had sprouted a third head.
Now every molecule in my body is screaming at me (and I haven't started exercising yet). It goes against everything for which I stand: you know; land yachts, chocolate cream pie, and the sedentary lifestyle.
Wish me luck.