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In weight loss, an unexpected gain

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Special to The Times

MY vacation souvenir was 10 pounds. A sore knee had kept me from working out for three months, and my midlife metabolism just couldn’t handle the butter-drenched lobster, shoofly pie, homemade pizzelles and campfire s’mores from three weeks on the road.

A friend recommended a stationary bike to strengthen my knee. The advice seemed sound: I needed the stronger knee to become more physical, and I needed to become more physical to lose weight.

Armed with a stack of magazines, I climbed onto a bike at the gym. That first day, I set the timer for 25 minutes and pedaled away at level two on the fat burner program. Five days a week I pedaled 20 to 45 minutes. I experimented with fat burner plus, cross-country, rolling hills and speed training. I graduated to level three, and on alternate days I also lifted weights.

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I have miserable memories of physical education in junior high, but after four or five weeks at the gym, I realized how much I enjoyed this routine. I was really having fun, and I looked forward to each workout.

Why? The answer had nothing to do with the exercise, and I wasn’t 10 pounds lighter. I was excited because I was reading poetry in the New Yorker and testing my vocabulary in Reader’s Digest.

I learned why Picasso wouldn’t drive or give his worn clothes to his gardener.

I learned that secretaries are happier than high school teachers and high school teachers are happier than preschool teachers.

I learned that a presidential physical, which costs more than $1,400, would give me the same medical evaluation provided to George W. Bush: ultrasounds, a tuberculosis test, an angiogram and a bunch of multiple-syllable procedures ending in “opy.”

I learned that a grounded Airbus in India had become a $4 tourist attraction for people who wanted to board a plane, be treated to snacks and learn how to use an oxygen mask.

Some days, I didn’t want to stop pedaling until I had read all the letters to the editor and knew how the people in Milford, Penn., and Brookfield, Wis., felt about food allergies.

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The “whole new me” was mental, not physical. Current, knowledgeable and conversant, at parties I now could discuss the effects of birth order, a person’s preferences for items that start with the same letter as his or her name and why Hillary Clinton is such a challenge to impersonators.

I lost only three of the 10 pounds, but I am not discouraged. I’ll go to the gym today: I’m sure I’ll read something that makes the exercise worthwhile.

Kathy S. Berger is a business consultant and freelance writer. She lives in Rossmoor.

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