The General Theory of Fitness Relativity

Doug and I have a theory about being in shape. We have both exercised in one form or another most of our lives, ever since the day he was the undersized long snapper and reserve lineman on the West Linn Lions football team and I was a skinny ineffectual wide receiver. Over the years we have ran, weight lifted and rode bikes, in various stages of overweight or playing weight. At one point in his adult life Doug participated in triathlons and was running and biking dozens of miles a week and reached a peak of fitness. Well into my twenties and thirties I played volleyball and softball and worked out and trained year round.

We both love to eat, and occasionally the demands of family life or the lure of a soft couch have overcome our resolve. So we have experienced the highs and lows of fitness, the satisfaction of a personal best in a 10k as well as the ignominy of carrying around a spare tire or the start of one. Occasionally I have fallen victim to the coda of Miss Piggy: "never eat more than you can lift."

The General Theory of Fitness Relativity is as follows:

If you miss a couple of workouts or eat a couple of big meals, you start to feel out of shape, but if you go to the gym two times in a row you start to think, "Gee I'm starting to feel in pretty good shape." The reality is, we neither get in shape or fall out of shape that quickly, but our perception changes with our last couple of fitness or non-fitness decisions.

Perception is reality in a lot of areas, but middle-aged men have an almost inexhaustible capacity to fudge on the truth, and even fudge on how much fudge we ate. I think there's a lot of pressure on everyone these days. Women have had it for years, with the unrealistic images and stereotypes portrayed in media and advertising, but in the last 15-20 years, it has ratcheted up for men as well. You can't pass a billboard or a magazine cover without seeing some chiseled perfect body advertising something, from cologne to underwear to travel, and the truth is, no one can look like that without a lot of work and great genes. The jeans they're selling won't do the trick by themselves. The assault of perfection is everywhere, particularly in the checkout line at the grocery store: inch high headlines, proclaiming Hugh Jackman as "The Sexiest Man Alive." I snuck a peek inside the magazine, and Doug and I didn't even make the top 1000. I guess we're not as in shape as we thought.

There's a lot of anxiety about body image on the part of ordinary people, and that anxiety sells a lot of products. When we watched the Civil War on the Versus network the weekend before last we kept seeing these ads for instant fixes and instant results in all areas of life: Learn to sell on EBay in one easy lesson. Earn 60,000 a month working at home. Tone your body in just ten minutes a day. The male model for the door mount exercise machine had a magnificent body, but I can guarantee you he didn't get it with ten minutes of pull ups and crunches and three easy installments of 39.95. There are few shortcuts, and none worth taking. Hugh Jackman probably works out two to four hours a day when he's prepping for a movie role. (I have to say the magazine got it right about his sexy status. Not only is he a very handsome man with a good body, he's a loving and faithful husband and a devoted father with a healthy perspective on things, a rarity in celebrity circles.) It's always easier to accept those kinds of proclamations when they are awarded to someone who seems to be a good guy, someone you wouldn't mind having a beer with. George Clooney falls into that category. Paul Newman came across that way. Tom Cruise, not so much, though I've heard in spite of all the lambasting he gets in the tabloid press he is unfailingly a gracious and courteous person, to fans, receptionists, and the staff on the set.

Our whole culture is fascinated with celebrity and the seeming physical perfection they represent, and the fascination is unfair to ourselves. Ordinary people don't have trainers and surgeons and makeup artists and lighting specialists and photograph retouchers and nutritionists and publicists, people paid to make us look good. We just do our jobs and try to carve out a little time to look and feel a little better. My advice is, go to the gym on Tuesday and Thursday. Skip the dog-eared copy of People magazine and bring along something worthwhile to read, or exercise with a loved one or a friend, and accompany the workout with an hour of good conversation.

By Friday afternoon you'll start to feel in shape, and if you don't skip on Saturday you'll be on your way to the best holiday season of your life. Get the jump on the crowd, and make your New Year's resolution in December. You'll be feeling better and stronger while they're just toying with the idea of getting started.

And remember, the only realistic measurement of your worth and desirability is you, and the person you love most. You only have to be the sexiest person alive for one person, and finding and caring for that one person is the deepest joy imaginable. Just ask Stephanie. She's found hers, and everyday he makes her feel that way too. And that is inexpressibly beautiful, and dead sexy.