Why do we exercise?

Sometimes I wonder why I work out. Why do I exercise? Why do I keep torturing myself for 20-60 minutes every day (or nearly every day).

My wife exercises. I exercise. I think we urge each other on. I think I can fairly say, and my wife will agree, that she exercises more because I do than the other way around. She does have two brother's who work out (and six packs, yet that's a story for another day), yet not one other person I know of on my side who works out regularly.

So it's just me. I was the first person in my family to get a degree from college (I have three so my record probably won't be broken any time soon) and I'm also the first to exercise on a regular basis.

Now, I'm not saying people in my family don't ride a bike, walk or do something on a treadmill. I think there are a lot of people who at least think about doing that. Yet I am the first and probably only person on my side of the family who "really" works out.

My older brother Bobby used to work out when we were teens in the 1980s. He'd often try to get me to work out with him. Yet I wasn't interested. Later I picked up the hobby of weight lifting and never quit. He did quit. He might lift a weight on occasion, yet I do it nearly every day.

Of course this is nothing new. I remember going with him to Ben Franklin's in 1978 when I was 8 and he was 9, to get candy. Yet he found some baseball cards and spent all of his candy money on baseball cards at 10 cents a pack. I bought none. I wondered why he would waste his money.

He kept trying to get me to collect cards with him, saying they'll be worth money some day. I told him no one would want to buy a stupid card with a stupid baseball player on it. Funny thing was, two years later he quit collecting and I started. Today I'm still going on this hobby (now with my son), and he has never touched a card since.

So here I am lifting weights at least once a week for ten years, and he doesn't. Sometimes I wonder why this is, yet I know the answer. When he quit working out nothing bad ever happened. Working out for him was merely cosmetic. Yet for me, when I quit, I get winded. My asthma gets worse. So for me, it's more than just a hobby. It's necessary. It's a need.

Sometimes I hate working out. Most of the time I enjoy it. I enjoy torching myself. I enjoy the misery I go through for the 20 minutes I'm on the treadmill. Why? Because I like how I feel the rest of the day due to the torture. When I was a kid I didn't like the torture. Of course when
I was a kid I also had hardluck asthma.

Yet the real reason we do what we do is because of choice. I choose to work out. I choose to not feel bad. I choose to have control over my asthma. As a kid we don't get to choose sometimes, because our parents decide for us. As an adult, however, it's all on us. It's our choice.

Exercise and asthma

One thing I've been able to do as an adult that I NEVER could do when I was younger is exercise. I think this is one of the main reasons I write so much about the importance of good asthma control and exercise.

I was always a skinny little kid to begin with, so there was no urgency that I work out. While I do remember my doctor discussing the importance of exercise, it was this same doctor who wrote the excuse slip that got my out of Gym class.

My dad loved sports, and I remember watching him lay basketball and baseball. Of course wanting me to follow in his tracks, he encouraged me to play sports. Yet basketball and asthma don't mix. Likewise, baseball spewed up a lot of dust.

So dad had me do push ups and sit-ups. He had me start at 10, and every week he had me add two. By the time I was 16 I could 100 of each with ease. I couldn't run, but I could do push-ups and sit-ups better than anyone. Oh, and I could stand on my head.

My older brother Bobby tried to get me to lift weights with him when I was a teen, yet the weights were in the basement. Since playing under forts built in the basement living-room area, and roller skating down their when I was a kid, triggered many life threatening asthma attacks when I was little, I had no interest lifting weights in the basement.

When I was in college my friends tried to get me to lift weights, yet I wasn't interested. "It's boring," I remember saying to them. "What a dumb and dis interesting hobby."

Also in college I was known to buy a large pizza and eat the entire thing. I was skinny, so weight gain was not a concern. However, once college ended when I was 23, I continued to eat like I always did. The problem now is I was no longer growing up, so I started growing out. I think this is a problem with most adults.

So now I was 24 and my friends were making fun of my gut. Of course you should add in beer to my diet. I'm proud to say I never touched a drop of alcohol in high school (although I did have the opportunity), but when I was in college I became an avid beer drinker. I never abused alcohol, I just like it's relaxing effects, especially after a long week of studying (and later working).

When my older brother Bobby got married in 1991 I was still in good shape when I stood up in his wedding. The same was true when my younger brother David got married in 1992. Yet when my younger brother Dan got married in 1994, I was fat. I remember feeling so sluggish I was embarrased. I decided right there something needed to be done.

Of course it didn't help that my asthma was dong poorly again by this time too. Hmmm, I wonder if obesity had something to do with it? I was fat. I was 220 pounds on a 5'8" frame. I was also the shortest person in my family, perhaps a little growth stunt due to asthma and steroid usage.

This was also when I started respiratory school. The entire time I was in RT school I was fat, winded, stressed, and I ate and drank every chance I got. I had fun. I enjoyed life to the fullest. Perhaps I had so much fun because I knew for the first time what I wanted to do with my life. Yet the struggle to get through the very intense RT program was mighty.

There were a few days I had to miss school because of my asthma, yet I refused to ever go to the hospital for my asthma attacks. I hired a pulonologist, yet I ended up firing him because he was an asshole. Excuse the term, yet that' show I viewed him. He was a control freak, and I was a laid back person who wanted a little control.

In retrospect, I was probably the jerk. I needed someone to be firm with me, and to tell me I needed to start being compliant with my asthma medicines (I wasn't a gallant asthmatic back then). I was, however, a gallant asthmatic from the time I was discharged from the asthma hospital in July of 1995 until I completed my Bachelor's Degree in 1993 from Ferris State University.

Yet that degree was in Journalism and Advertising. Obviously those degrees didn't jibe well with me, so I decided to start over in RT school. It was a good choice. Yet by the time I completed RT school, after I was hired at Shoreline Medical Center where I still work, I had a bad asthma attack and ended in the hospital for 10 days.

One of my coworker, Sahara, RTs came in to visit me. She also took care of me when I was a hardluck asthmatic when I was a kid. I figured she'd come in and sit and visit with me. Well, she did. Yet it didn't go as I planned. Instead she lectured me.

She said something like, "Every time I see you you're eating Big Macs and Whoppers. You don't exercise. You're really overweight. You probably aren't taking your asthma meds either. If you keep up on this track you're going to be dead in 10 years."

Then she got up and walked out. I was so ticked at her I never spoke to her another five years unless I had to. However, it was at this point I started on some of the newer asthma medicines. Instead of taking Azmacort 4 puffs 4 times a day I switched to Flovent which only needed to be taken twice a day. This improved my asthma compliance.

This was also when a co-worker came to me and asked if I wanted to join a group that was going to the health club every day to work out. I said, "Hell no. I'm not wasting my time with that." However, she proceeded to convince me to "just come one time."

Well, needless to say, I went that "one time." That was in 1998. I was 220 pounds when I worked out that day. A year later I was one of only two of that group of 10 that was still working out at the health club. I dropped all the way down to a very smooth 180 pounds.

The neat thing about that experience was the first time I hopped onto a stationary bike. I was actually scared that I wouldn't be able to do it because of my asthma. There was a similar uneasiness the first time I jogged on the treadmill. Yet since I was now compliant and on much better asthma meds than ever before, I did NOT have an asthma attack.

The problem was, as with most people who have to live their lives, the weight came back.

The eating dilemma

I have a rule when it comes to eating. It's quite simple actually. I am allowed to eat only food that fits into the BFL program with my own twists of course. However, I am also allowed to eat any food that is offered to me.

The only exception I make is in the first two weeks of the program. I'm a believer, and have proven to myself, that the first two weeks are the most critical. If you can get through the first two weeks of any program, you're in the good. You will continue on regardless of any slip ups.

If you eat food that is not appropriate for your particular diet during the first two weeks, you have a high likelihood of failing and having to start over. However, if you eat naughty food later in the program, you'll be more likely to get back on the horse and keep going.

I think the problem with most failings is that people eat a bad meal, they have the craving for a cookie, and they eat it. Then they feel guilty, say skrew it, and then decide to eat whatever they want the rest of the day. This is fine later in the diet, yet it is not fine the first two weeks.

During the first two weeks you're more likely to say "skrew it" for that day, and then have trouble getting back on track the next day too.

I find that if I eat good and exercise, even on my free day I don't want to eat too bad. I don't want to skrew up a good thing. Eating right becomes a habit.

The dilemma comes in when someone brings food to you. My wife's aunt -- on the fourth day of the program nonetheless -- brought us a homemade meal of chicken, green beans mixed with bacon and butter, and mashed potatoes made with butter I'm sure, and two desserts and home made bisquits with home made honey.

Ahhhhh, my taste buds were salivating. And I ate all of it. Well, except for the dessert that is. It was easy to avoid the dessert because it was chocolate cake and I don't particularly care for chocolate to begin with. So I saved myself there.

Still, even when you are dietiing you still need to live your life. It's okay to eat a meal someone prepares for you. If you go to someone's house and they offer you a meal, take it. You only look rediculous when you turn down good food.

I wouldn't turn down a beer someone offered either. I'd even have two or three. Heck, I'd even get drunk if the opportunity presented itself. However, you must never forget the goals you set for yourself. It's okay to have a fun day now and again, yet you must get back on the horse the next day.

It's ideal to save your bad diet days for a free day. Yet life is life.

Donating organs

If you check out my Respiratory Therapy Cave blog today you will see that I wrote about my family's experience with the Gift of Life and organ donation. Writing that reminded me that as far back as when I was a little kid I figured no one would want my lungs except scientists.

So I've never been keen on the idea is gross or otherwise not a good idea, when the time comes to making the decision "hopefully" more reasonable heads prevail.

I remember my Aunt T. telling me a story when her brother Ted died in a car accident in 1989. She said she went with her brother to a funeral when they were still both kids and at the cemetery music was played. She said everyone broke out into tears. She said she looked at Ted and Ted looked at her, and they both decided they would never want music at their funeral.

Yet at that time they didn't expect what was to happen. You see, Tad loved people. He loved to make people happy. So he got a group together and formed a band. So the band marched in parades and in parks and made many people happy. Then Ted died and everyone was sad.

So now the family had to decide what to do at Ted's funeral. It only made sense that his band should play. I couldn't help thinking of this story as, after the burial procession at the cemetery, Tad's own band played Tad's favorite tune.

I could hear many sobs, and as I looked around saw many tears. Yes, even I had to work hard to hold them in. Yet the irony here is that what we say in passing, the humor we create to get through life, doesn't mean much when it comes down to the final moments of our lives. When the time comes, we are all humbled.

Reasonable heads prevail. The decision "should" be made to give to the Gift of Life whether even if, in passing, the young person frowned on the idea. Sometimes, such comments must be trumped. Ted would have been happy to make seven or eight people happy.

And, even though she frowned on the idea in life, my mother in law too must be smiling in Heaven as she looks down on the lives she made happy because of what she donated.

So if I died tomorrow, no one would want my asthmatic lungs.

However, I think a scientist might want to study them. They didn't function good in my life, yet if studying them might bring about new wisdom to the quest to conquer this disease, then take my lungs.

They certainly won't be much use to me in Heaven.

The elephant on my chest

I woke up this morning with a big weight on my chest; something heavy like an elephant. Each expiration was heavy and prolonged. I opened my eyes thinking I was going to need to use my rescue inhaler, and that was when I remembered #4 was sleeping on my chest.

When he woke up at 4 a.m. he decided he no longer wanted the bottle of breast milk. He no longer was soothed just lying next to his daddy. What he wanted, I presumed, was his mommy. Yet she wouldn't be home another four hours at the least.

The warmth of my chest must have reminded him of his mother's warmth, and he fell asleep in a heartbeat. I rolled him to where he was lying beside me, and he stayed asleep. In a way this brought about a good feeling. It was a good feeling because daddy should be able to get some good sleep -- an hour at least.

So now it's 7 a.m. and the entire team is up except for the oldest. With his own hideout in the basement, he rarely has a need to come upstairs except for when he's hungry or has to use the restroom.

Number four is rolling around the floor with a bright smile upon his face. For some reason he decided he didn't want to sleep any more. I set him back upon my chest before I brought him out here, yet instead of closing his eyes he decided to play with my nose. So I knew it was time to get up.

Number two popped up as soon as she saw the light and took over the job of entertaining #1. In this way she is a big help, allowing dad to take a break and write this frivolous post. Number three decided she wanted to join the fun, and from behind the closed door I heard a muffled, "Daddy, I'm up!"

When I entered her room I found all the blankets and her pillow on the floor. That's her new entertainment, her first job of late of the day.

So our first experience with the wife working night shift went rather well with #4. When #3 was a baby she didn't tolerate it so well. Daddy tired of attempts to put her in bed, or even his bed, usually opted to sleep in the recliner all night with #3 by his side.

Yet #4 wasn't that way at all. Yes there was the need for a bottle or a snuggling every couple hours, yet only once did daddy have to get up to rock the boy. I'll never know why he's so mellow. Is it genetics, that he's a boy, or because he's #4 and has his siblings to push him around and mellow him out.

Or perhaps this humble RT is getting good at being a parent. Well, I'll hold off personal judgement. I've learned it's best not to jump to conclusions. These little animals, all four of them (well, 2 not so little any more), keep your humble RT busy, and for some reason have this uncanny ability to suck his energy dry.

Yet through heavy eyes he takes his break, with a background of soft chatting of the middle two, and the happy beat of children's songs every time #4 bounces in his little Fisher Price bouncy seat -- a smile cheek to cheek, and a happy giggle.

So it is only 7:30 now on a chilly Saturday morning in January, the years will move by quickly and the #1 through #4 will grow up. So the humble RT and dad has to quit writing now so he can spend quality time with them all while they are still under the roof of the humble RT.

The six pack deception

I could call it a lie, yet I think deception is a better word. While I do endorse the Body For Life program and any other program that encourages and teaches people to get in shape, I don't endorse the "deception" that if you complete the 12 week course you'll have a perfect body with a six pack.

If you google Body For Life, if you look at the pictures in the book, if you watch commercials or read articles about other weight loss programs, you'll see that all of them (or most anyway) use people who have six pack figures. The idea here is to convince you that this is what you will end up with.

Actually, the bottom line is to get you to buy their product. The nice thing about the BFL program is that you don't HAVE to buy anything. They want you to, but you don't HAVE to. And I don't. I do the program, and I buy not one thing from the company. I didn't even buy the book.

If you read the BFL book by Bill Phillips you'll get a good feeling for how to lose weight. I would say that 90% of the book is 100% true. The problem is that when you finish the book you also think you will have that six pack. The truth is: that is not true for most of us.

You will lose weight if you do the program. You will lose weight anytime you limit your intake. Likewise, you will gain muscle when you do the program. You will gain muscle any time you lift weights.

However, to end the 12 week program with a six pack (according to John Hussman), you have to start the program with less than 24% body fat. Oh, hold on, there's more. To end up with "THAT" perfect body, you will have to:

1. Start with less than 24% body fat
2. Not really take free days where you eat whatever you want
3. Have to do more than one 12 week session if you are greater than 24% body fat
4. Do more than 20 minutes of cardio three days a week
5. Maybe even do more weight lifting than what is in the book

I would imagine there are some exceptions. Some people have good genetics that might allow them to achieve the perfect body quicker. Some people also have youth on their side.

Yet most of us don't have the time nor energy to dedicate more than what is mentioned in the book. The whole idea of the BFL book is to show us a program that allows us busy people to achieve a healthy body in 45 minutes or less each day, in 12 weeks or less.

Again, I would endorse any program you do to get healthy. However, I would highly recommend you not spend any money. I would recommend you purchase no products other than the equipment you need to get in shape, such as a treadmill, stationary bike, regular bike, weight equipment, etc.

You can get a six pack if you put your mind and soul into it. However, a more realistic goal is to get healthy and stay that way.

Free days

Today was a perfect example of what I wrote yesterday: that you have to tweak your workout to fit your life. With the power out for several hours today I was unable to sleep. Of course you know in today's high tech world you need electricity to power a good sleep. You have to plug yourself in.

So by the time I fell back to sleep time didn't allow for a workout. No sweat, because the BFL program allows for a free day. Ideally you're "supposed" to workout Monday through Saturday and take your free day on Sunday, however with a life, I find it better to tweak my free day in to two different days.

A free day involves two things:

1. No exercise
2. No diet (eat whatever you want)

Usually there is one day during the course of the week where you simply do not have time to work out, like today for example. However, there are often days when the kids have school programs or an ice cream social or a birthday party or reunion or Christmas or Thanksgiving or something along those lines.

So if one of those things are coming up I'll schedule that day to be my free day from eating. So, as you can see, I try to take my free day from eating and exercising all in one. Yet quite often I find it better to split it up. One day is free from exercise, and another day free from diet.

Some people might frown on this, yet it works for my life great. This is especially important because I normally work days Monday and Tuesday, so I do my Monday workout on Sunday and take Monday off from working out. This way I have quality time with the family after work Monday and before bed.

However, I like to take my free diet day on the weekends when something is going on, like football day during the NFL season.

So you see, it's better to tweak your workout program than to not do one at all. When it comes to keeping your body in shape there are no excuses...

• even if you have asthma
• even if you're married with children
• even if you work too much
• even if....