Body Worry : Never Too Late to Change Your Life
My father died six years ago, around Father’s Day. I thought of him today as I read the results from my physical at the Cooper Clinic.
As my dad got older, he became a less active person. His emphysema had something to do with that (he smoked for 40 years). Obviously, the brain and lung cancer that eventually killed him affected his activity level at the end, too.
But as much as anything, I think my dad had decided that it was too late to change things.
This year, I have learned that it is never too late to change your life and your health, whatever your age. All of you have seen the obvious change--the change in my shape. But much more important, my insides have changed just as dramatically.
My EKG, which was beginning to show abnormalities a year ago, is now normal. My triglycerides, a factor in heart disease, dropped from a high 355 to 139. My GGT, a liver enzyme known as the fingerprint of the steady drinker, dropped from a bothersome 117 to a completely normal 21.
A Dramatic Change
My cholesterol levels, the very best indicator of heart disease, have changed as dramatically. My total cholesterol count dropped from 260 to 201. Much more important, my ratio of “good” to “bad” cholesterols (HDL to LDL) dropped from 7.2 to 1 to 4.8 to 1. The Cooper Clinic considers a 5-to-1 ratio healthy.
My greatest surprise at the clinic had to do with my lung capacity. Tests a year ago showed I had lost a portion of my breathing capacity, probably due to years of smoking and inactivity. No one, including Dr. Kenneth Cooper, expected that to change.
But my lung capacity has gone from 79% of that predicted for my age and size to 104%. Since dead lung tissue can’t regenerate, Dr. Cooper feels my improvement was caused by weight loss: My lungs, with less fat around them and a lung cage expanded from exercise, had more room to expand.
All of these changes took place without medication--a nice thought. And they didn’t take place because I lived on a tropical island or had trainers or had a supposedly limitless amount of time.
I overdid it for the first few months (that’s when all my injuries happened, too), but when I settled down, my aerobic exercise program for my health took only 20 minutes, three times a week. I also lifted weights for 45 minutes, three times a week, but I did that mainly for my vanity, not my health.
Unpleasant Part
My 20 minutes of health exercise usually consisted of biking, which I enjoy. But even if I had jogged instead (I hate jogging), I could have survived 20 minutes of misery. I look upon those minutes as the unpleasant part of a job. If you don’t do your job, you’re fired. In this instance, being fired can be equated with illness and death.
My health and shape changes didn’t take radical changes in my eating, either. At first, I was a wacko about anything that entered my body. I quickly settled down into simple modifications of my eating habits, of the way I know I’m going to eat.
When I started this year, Dr. Cooper estimated my physiological age at 55 (I was 45). He now says my physiological age is 35.
As I look at all the changes that have taken place on my surface and insides, my real regret is the number of years I waited to begin my changes. If I had taken an interest in health 10 years ago, I probably would have been a happier person. If I had started earlier, maybe I could have helped my dad take an interest in his health.
I couldn’t see that back then, of course, and constantly denied the reality of my health and shape. I was immortal. There was always time to change things.
A Reminder of the Past
Last month, I saw that denial in a man who reminded me too much of me. I was walking on the beach when a bikinied man who looked 60, with a belly that made my former body look svelte and a cigarette hanging from his mouth, yelled “Hey, aren’t you that swoon walker or something?”
“Yes,” I said, as he dropped a few ashes and coughed.
“You know, I give your articles to all my friends,” he continued, “the out-of-shape ones.”
“Oh, really? What do you do to keep in shape?” I tried not to sound sarcastic and obviously succeeded. The man simply continued talking.
“Oh nothing, I used to be a football player, you know.”
“Oh. When was that?”
“Twenty years ago. I’m 42.”
That seemed more like his waist size than his age.
I walked on, slightly uncomfortable, reminded too much of the way I used to be.
Did the man’s spouse worry about him? His kids? My father was never overweight, but I worried about his health and did nothing.
I think about that a lot as Father’s Day gets closer. The best gift to give someone is an interest in their health.
Progress Report
Beginning 36th Week Waist: 43 inches 33 1/2 inches Right biceps: 12 3/4 inches 13 inches Flexed: 13 inches 13 3/4 inches Weight: 201 pounds 167 pounds Height: 6’ 1” Blood Pressure: 128/68 120/60 Pulse: 64 52 Bench press: 55 145 Hunk factor: .00 .75
