Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Talking with Author Christine London

Now You Can Have A Sedentary Job And Stay in Shape


Is your image of an author something akin to this…




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Photo ‘A’







Or perhaps more like…




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Photo ‘B’





We are, after all, nothing more than glorified computer geeks when you get right down to it. (Minus the techno savvy.) There aren’t many people who move less during the course of the day than those of us who face this glowing computer screen.



You too, you say? Offices around the country are teaming with people of the butt-spreading affliction. Too much sitting.



If you are willing to take your health as seriously as say…your next business appointment—you’ve got the potential to look more like photo “A”….less like “B”. If you had to schedule a doctor’s appointment or get those teeth whitened at the dentist, when would you do it? What if your doctor worked more reasonable hours. Say six in the morning until eight at night. (He is obviously a member of a progressive ‘group’).



Okay—got the time figured out? Now jot it down on your calendar. Once you’ve gone to see him he just may tell you that you have to go through physical therapy to alleviate your medical problem. (Are you starting to catch on here??)



“Ms. Finkleslumper, you have the dreaded disease of the computer generation—arsespreadittis. In order to survive and thrive you must keep your physical therapy appointment every other day at this appointed time.”



“But Doctor…what do I have to do. I am so busy.”





“This is a medical appointment, Ms. Finkleslumper.” He peers over his reading specs, serious expression of dire consequence creasing his brow.



“Okay,” you say. “What is the Physical Therapist going to make me do?”



“Walk around your neighborhood.”



“Say my what??”



“Don’t you like where you live Ms Finkleslumper? Didn’t you follow your realtor’s suggestion to buy/rent in as nice a neighborhood as your dollars could afford?”



“Well..er, yes.”



“Do you like the digs around your office? That technology park with the green grass, fountains and winding sidewalks connecting those one story sprawling buildings?”



“My office is in the city. High rises and Starbucks on every corner.”



“Brilliant. They have sidewalks?”



You are beginning to question the intelligence of your care provider. “Uhh…yeah.”



“Okay. You slip out of those heels and into some ‘gel’ impact absorbing running shoes.”



“I can’t run!” you reply in a near shriek.



“You aren’t going to run. You are going to walk.” He taps his pen on the desk, then pops it into the canister to the side of his stack of files. “You can walk, can’t you Ms Finkleslumper?”



“Yes.”



“Have you ever explored your neighborhood?”



“I drive past it every day on the way to my parking spot.”



“Not the same. The world is a wonderful new place when viewed by foot.”



“But, but…I--”



“No ‘butts’ now. This is a medical appointment. This is something your boss has deemed important enough for you to take time away from your computer. And with this new appointment you won’t even have to do that-- because your doctor works those long hours, remember? He will ‘see’ you before work, on your lunch hour or even in the evening.”



You flash a look of incredulity. “What kind of nut--”



“You. You’re the nut. In fact you are so seriously ill without keeping this appointment you may cut your life short by some fifteen to twenty years. If you keep these appointment you’ll not only discover some pretty wonderful places around where you live/work, you’ll probably be seeing less of me and more clothing stores.”



You tilt your head to the side in question, but before you can say anything he’s replied.



“You’re gonna need some new jeans and possibly skirts. Looking in the junior department might be required as the clothes in ‘Misses’ can often be a bit frumpy for one recovering from arsespreadittis.”



“How do you know that?”



“Because you’re going to get bored with a stroll after awhile and you will be picking up the pace, making new turns down streets you’ve never been, maybe even swinging your arms to the tunes pumping into your ears via the earbuds connected to your new I-pod. You are going to be losing weight.”



“Is that part of the prescription too?”



“Only if you like music. Otherwise you’ll be listening to the sounds of the ‘hood’. Birds, barking dogs, people talking as they pass, motorbikes revving by---you know---all the stuff you never here bottled up in an office.”



“I meant the weight loss bit, actually. What if I have to cancel?”



“Are you in a habit of canceling your doctor appointments?”



“Er…” you drop your eyes to the floor. “No.”



“Then you’ll keep these. They are written on your calendar remember. They are as important as any commitment you make on your calendar—if not more so.”



“I get it, I get it.”



“Do you?” he says.



“How long are these appointments?”



“Same as you doctor appointment. How long did it take you today?”



“Ten minutes drive, five minutes to park, uh…fifteen minutes in your waiting room reading Highlights for children,” You glance to your wristwatch. “Fifteen minutes with you and then back to the office.”



“So about an hour give or take?”



“Yeah.” You look at the chart on his wall with the BMI weight index and avert your eyes for fear of learning how far over the optimal you are. “Do I have to diet?”



“Diets don’t work. At least not in the sense most people define them. You can only stay on a restrictive intake of calories and flavor for just so long.”



“So I can eat anything I want?”



“Not unless you are still nineteen.”



Damn. “I hate middle age spread.”



“Then go to your scheduled appointments, eat more slowly and don’t overdo.”



“No dessert or alcohol ever…I know.”



“I didn’t say that. Have that stuff on weekends and make sure the rest of the week you’re eating one serving of the stuff you know is good for you AND that you like.”



“That’s it?”



“That’s it.”



You stretch a hand across the desk and shake on it. Off you go to plop back in front of the glowing screen. Tomorrow you have running shoes in your car, appointments scheduled for the week and a kick in you step. You have just taken the pledge to ‘Doctor’ you. A fitter, happier, more energy-filled you.



No excuses.



You have an appointment with the most important person in the world.



You.



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Christine London writes (for hours and hours a day) in front of her glowing (blank) screen and as a result is the multi-published author of many spicy contemporary tales of suspense and fun--with a British twist. You can find out more about her at www.christinelondon.com



Oh..and she is the proud owner of a svelte behind. She keeps her appointments.



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