Remember how my doctor said that the way my DNA combined left me with a predisposition to store fat? You could say that I inherited a 'fat gene.' But I'm not alone. According to a news item by the Associated Press that you can read by clicking here, up to 30% of white people with European ancestry also inherited the gene.
But the good news is there is a way to over come it.
The bad news is that it involves 3 to 4 hours of physical activity EVERY DAY.
Apparently the only people to accomplish that in today's modern world are the Amish, who live a 19th century lifestyle. I may live on Belly Acre Farm, an acre and a half of land with a large garden and 18 fruit trees, but I don't live a 19th century lifestyle.
But I can use my wheel hoe more. Here's a photo of a man using a wheel hoe. Imagine that it's a picure of me instead. Because I have one very similar to it. In fact, I've often felt like a pioneer when I'm out pushing the wheel hoe between the rows of vegetables in the garden or weeding the berm in front of our house. It's a good, sweaty workout that reminds me that I come from hardy pioneer stock.
Hmmm. What else could I do to add more activity to my day? The other morning I got distracted and missed the turn into the right parking lot entrance when going to the bank. Instead of going through the drive through, I parked in an adjacent lot and walked over and inside the bank. My fritzy memory could help me get more activity.
I walked my daughter to school this morning. I could do that everyday, and we'd both get more exercise. If we're running late we could ride our bikes.
I could go on bike rides without my dog. She's young, energetic and loves to pull. Realizing this, I bought her a pink harness that allows her to help pull me on my bike without straining her neck. Boy can she pull! I usually start off on an up-hill route, as she always has the most energy at the beginning of our outings. I guess I could start out downhill. But I just don't want to. Her favorite stretch to run on is a grassy parking strip up the road that's at the end of my street. She really digs in and I encourage her by ringing my bike bell wildly and yelling, "Go Annie! Go!" I won't give that up. It is bliss on a bike. And I'm pedaling as fast as I can.