There's a quip I'm making so often these days, it's becoming a cliche: If this is my so-called ideal weight, then why do I have to work so hard to keep it?
Now a corollary has presented itself.
Why does attaining and maintaining a so-called ideal weight cost so much?
I've talked here at some length about the cost, in time, of holding onto health -- how hard it can be for a busy working woman to squeeze in not only a swim or gym session, but also the time to change clothes, shower and take care of other pre- and post-workout tasks.
I've had the luxury, however, of not thinking too much about the monetary costs -- costs that are prohibitive to too many of my friends who want to eat well and exercise, but can't afford to.
I have great health insurance; that's how I was able to have the physical therapy that put me on this life-changing path.
Not long after I finished PT, the people at the pool lowered the monthly cost for pool access from $50 to $35. But even $35 is out of reach for many people -- and it doesn't cover extra costs for the various classes offered at the pool, like aqua-exercise for people with arthritis, or deep-water training.
I am fortunate to have, in the community where I spend most of my waking hours, a well-run, well-equipped gym that's part of an international franchise, meaning that my little purple key fob can admit me to Anytime Fitness facilities all over the world. But $45 a month is a lot of money, for me and for nearly everybody I know. And fancier gyms, with lap pools and juice bars, are even more costly.
So if you can't afford a gym or pool membership, or the price of a water aerobics class, what do you do? Jog in the park? Walk briskly along public trails?
Maybe. But well-fitting, supportive, durable walking or running shoes can easily have a three-figure price tag.
Bicycling? You won't find a good bike that fits your body at a garage sale or discount superstore (although I did get a free helmet from my local police).
And if you live in an area where it snows six months out of the year, as I do, the days that are suitable for outdoor exercise are limited, unless you shell out big bucks for snowshoes or cross-country skis.
Then there's eating.
Diet-industry programs like Jenny Craig or NutriSystem aren't for people who don't have either a large disposable income or a sweet endorsement deal.
Many people, too, are so busy that they rely on drive-through fast food that, more often than not, consists of empty calories and fuel-less ballast. (There are healthy choices at most major fast-food outlets, but that's another blog.)
Even if you buy and prepare your own food, the reality is that the least expensive groceries -- like dried pasta, or white bread and braunschweiger -- are very high in empty calories, starch and fat. Fresh produce comes at a price -- an even larger price if it's packaged for convenient preparation.
There's a reason why many people who struggle economically are overweight. There are many reasons. They are very real.
And if I ever hear anybody say, "If she's so poor, how come she's so fat?", it will be all I can do to prevent losing my temper, and patiently educate.
Meanwhile, I've come into some bonus money, and if my cardiologist so recommends, I may invest it in an electronic bracelet (FitBit or other brand) to monitor my heart rate or other indicia of fitness. I'm holding off because I don't yet have objective medical advice as to whether such a device is a reliable instrument, or a sound investment. I do know, however, that thanks to a little bit of luck and grace, I can afford it.
Now a corollary has presented itself.
Why does attaining and maintaining a so-called ideal weight cost so much?
I've talked here at some length about the cost, in time, of holding onto health -- how hard it can be for a busy working woman to squeeze in not only a swim or gym session, but also the time to change clothes, shower and take care of other pre- and post-workout tasks.
I've had the luxury, however, of not thinking too much about the monetary costs -- costs that are prohibitive to too many of my friends who want to eat well and exercise, but can't afford to.
I have great health insurance; that's how I was able to have the physical therapy that put me on this life-changing path.
Not long after I finished PT, the people at the pool lowered the monthly cost for pool access from $50 to $35. But even $35 is out of reach for many people -- and it doesn't cover extra costs for the various classes offered at the pool, like aqua-exercise for people with arthritis, or deep-water training.
I am fortunate to have, in the community where I spend most of my waking hours, a well-run, well-equipped gym that's part of an international franchise, meaning that my little purple key fob can admit me to Anytime Fitness facilities all over the world. But $45 a month is a lot of money, for me and for nearly everybody I know. And fancier gyms, with lap pools and juice bars, are even more costly.
So if you can't afford a gym or pool membership, or the price of a water aerobics class, what do you do? Jog in the park? Walk briskly along public trails?
Maybe. But well-fitting, supportive, durable walking or running shoes can easily have a three-figure price tag.
Bicycling? You won't find a good bike that fits your body at a garage sale or discount superstore (although I did get a free helmet from my local police).
And if you live in an area where it snows six months out of the year, as I do, the days that are suitable for outdoor exercise are limited, unless you shell out big bucks for snowshoes or cross-country skis.
Then there's eating.
Diet-industry programs like Jenny Craig or NutriSystem aren't for people who don't have either a large disposable income or a sweet endorsement deal.
Many people, too, are so busy that they rely on drive-through fast food that, more often than not, consists of empty calories and fuel-less ballast. (There are healthy choices at most major fast-food outlets, but that's another blog.)
Even if you buy and prepare your own food, the reality is that the least expensive groceries -- like dried pasta, or white bread and braunschweiger -- are very high in empty calories, starch and fat. Fresh produce comes at a price -- an even larger price if it's packaged for convenient preparation.
There's a reason why many people who struggle economically are overweight. There are many reasons. They are very real.
And if I ever hear anybody say, "If she's so poor, how come she's so fat?", it will be all I can do to prevent losing my temper, and patiently educate.
Meanwhile, I've come into some bonus money, and if my cardiologist so recommends, I may invest it in an electronic bracelet (FitBit or other brand) to monitor my heart rate or other indicia of fitness. I'm holding off because I don't yet have objective medical advice as to whether such a device is a reliable instrument, or a sound investment. I do know, however, that thanks to a little bit of luck and grace, I can afford it.
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