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August 7th, 2014

No, nobody said the word.
No, nobody called me that to my face
Rather, it was the result of a health assessment – which IMHO is even worse.

At work, our insurance program required the completion of a biometrics screening. That’s a fancy word for checking height, blood pressure, cholesterol, etc., etc., and comparing it to the average. I’m really curious what the healthcare professionals and statisticians really consider to be “average” if they consider someone with my body type to be obese. You see, according to the BMI (Body Mass Index), at my height and weight, I am above the “overweight” category and actually in the “obese” category. Yet, what ticks me off is that the BMI test doesn’t take into account whether one’s weight is fat or muscle. Now, I’m not saying that I’m some sort of chiseled muscle-god. Certainly not! I have a bit of a paunch that I would like to get rid of, and I would like a bit more definition in my chest and arms. But as a regular gym-goer, walk-rather-than-drive, and yogi; I most certainly am NOT obese. So then, if the BMI doesn’t actually take into account muscle vs. fat, then exactly what good is it? Anybody? Anybody?

Here’s the part that really ticks me off. I think that in this country, we have a ludicrous expectation when it comes to body image. Fat-shaming is so prevalent. We see it all the time in fashion. In Europe, there is nothing wrong with seeing a bit of curve on a human being. But not in America. Yet, ironically, compared to the rest of the world, America has the most health problems associated with being overweight. It’s ironic. It’s infuriating. It’s just wrong.

For me personally, I resent the fact that it is getting a little bit harder. Mentally, I am perfectly willing to go and perform an hour-long workout much like I do on this day and have done for years. But unlike last year, or the year before; it seems to take more work today than it used to, and I get less result. And then there are days when my body just fights me. There are times when suddenly I feel a horrible cramp, or I will hear a joint crack, or feel a swelling or slight tear which makes me immediately need to stop whatever it is that I was doing. I feel like I’m working with some faulty equipment. I can’t say that this is particularly surprising. I’m not a spring-chicken and won’t be again until I am recycled. But still, I can’t say that I particularly like it.

And I REALLY don’t like it when I have a flawed health assessment categorize me as “obese”.

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