Striving for Imperfection Vol 7
If you have ever been frustrated trying to lose weight, get fit, or just change a bad habit, this book is exactly what is needed. It's year #7 of Scott "Q" Marcus's collection of fun, upbeat, playful, inspiring and humorous columns on the thoughts, feelings beliefs involved in dropping a bad habit. More
If you have ever been frustrated trying to lose weight, get fit, or just change a bad habit, this book is exactly what is needed. It's year #7 of Scott "Q" Marcus's collection of fun, upbeat, playful, inspiring and humorous columns on the thoughts, feelings beliefs involved in dropping a bad habit.
As a professional speaker and syndicated columnist, Scott brings a quick wit and a light touch to to what is normally a difficult subject. Unlike others who deal with losing weight or aging well, he takes the approach that we already know what to do, we just don't do it.
Why? As Scott says, "We never grow up, we just become wrinkled kids." And the wrinkle kid who lives inside each of us doesn't want to focus on carbs, calories, or calisthenics. She would rather have fun. So, Scott's approach is to talk to the inner dialog that's causing the habits that hold us back, rather than to repeat the same old threadbare, over worn advice that any dieter has heard - and ignored - a million times. More importantly, he does it with warmth, compassion, and a playful warm humor.
Scott's style has been described as a "cross between Nutrition 101, Group Therapy, and a Southern Revival." This book - as well as the others in this series - will inspire you, educate you, make you think - and even bring a smile to your lips, even if you're dieting
Here's a sample...
Fret not; that thumping, rhythmic, heavy pulsing sound behind you is not the noise of Heaven and Earth colliding. Rather, ‘tis the pounding of my sneakers as they hit the pavement while I jog. Yes, you read that correctly. I am now jogging. (Well, not this minute of course; it’s difficult to type while running.)
I had more excuses than a double bacon cheeseburger has calories to avoid huffing and puffing down the street. They ran the gamut from “I might pass out,” to “I’ll look silly.” (Of course the latter pre-supposes that I don’t naturally look “silly,” which might be up for debate.) Yet, recently, my walks have — at times — become my jogs.
What pray tell, you might ask, has caused this transformation on par with the changing of the earth’s axis?
I am the recipient of a neat-o, boss, whiz-bang, plaything that plugs into my computer called an accelerometer. As I understand, an accelerometer “knows” where it is in space. Don’t get me wrong, it doesn’t know which city, but it is able to discern when it moves from one location to another, and at what velocity. Therefore, while it is on my person; should I go to and fro, hither and yon, nigh and far, or up and down; it measures that movement and speed. After an initial multi-day “assessment,” it computes my baseline activity level and sets up a 12-week challenge, gradually increasing my activity level. The result is I become more active, and hence, healthier — and hopefully thinner.
Each evening (as well as an obsessive number of times per day), I place it still on a flat surface to watch the ring of green LEDs glow. Should at least four of the six do so, I’m at 100% of my daily goal. Oh happy day! On the contrary, should I receive less than four, I better get moving.
At day’s end, I realized I forgot to check my progress. Placing it still, I sadly counted three lights. Refusing to let a small white inanimate device tell me I’m subpar, I grabbed my dog’s leash (with dog attached), slapped a headlamp on my forehead, and proceeded into the darkness, determined to achieve today’s goal. To fend off the night’s chill, I opted to move at a quicker pace. Before one could say, “You look silly,” I was jogging, my headlamp flapping up and down, making for an annoying strobe effect on the sidewalk ahead. To be honest, a jogging aficionado would look at what I call “jogging” the same way a chef would look at a TV dinner as “fine cuisine.” I am clumsy; I breathe heavy, and since my dog is in tow, a more accurate description of this activity would be "jog and pee." ... More
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