This Time I Mean It

Getting Past What Holds You Back with Baby Boomer Weight Loss Expert Scott 'Q' Marcus

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Hanging Around Getting Fit

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There is confusion as to why the current pandemic’s virus is named “COVID-19.”

The CDC, on its website, explains, “In COVID-19, ‘CO’ stands for ‘corona,’ ‘VI’ for ‘virus,’ and ‘D’ for the disease.” “Nineteen” refers to the year the virus was discovered.

Not wishing to disagree with such an esteemed, well-respected, scientific organization but, in the same manner that the “Freshman 15” refers to the 15 pounds many first-time college students gain in their first year, the 19 in COVID-19 is, in reality, a reference to how much weight most of us gain while stuck in our abodes, gulping junk food, watching Netflix, and hoping to survive until 2021. After all, let’s be honest, if the apocalypse is nigh, does it really matter how many Twinkies I consume?

So, while commemorating “south of the border night” on my couch (a celebration in which I engage several nights a week), consisting of an extra-large helping of nachos and a Margarita (or two), I had to unbuckle my belt and was therefore painfully confronted with the fact that I was becoming a tad “thick around the middle.”

“Nah, not me,” thought I. After all, everyone knows that calories consumed to medicate feelings of sadness or anxiety don’t add pounds. Clearly, my belt shrunk. Hefting myself from the sofa like a nine-month pregnant woman struggling to rise, I waddled to the scale, only to be alarmed at the number flashing before me.

“NO! Can’t be,” said I, putting down the bean dip and wiping the melted cheese from my face, “Time for a new scale.”

“Honey,” I called out, seeking confirmation that I remained as svelte as a 27-year-old fitness trainer, “Am I putting on weight?”

<crickets>

“Honey? Did you hear me?” I bellowed again from the bathroom scale while contorting myself into various poses on the platform to lower the number. (None worked.)

From the kitchen, the garbage disposal activates, blasting forth an earsplitting racket; my wife shouting over the din, “Sorry dear, I can’t hear you. Talk to me later.”

Point taken.

Faced with an indisputable truth, I – being the motivator that I am – decided to immediately commence a plan to flatten my stomach. Eating fewer chips would be a good start, but I wasn’t quite “there” yet. Instead, opting to strengthen my arms and make flat my belly by pulling out timeworn exercise equipment stored in the back of the closet since the Carter administration. I lugged the “ab flattener” sit-up machine into the guest room, blew off the dust (coughed repeatedly), and located it in the center of the floor. Next, pushing aside old moth-ridden blankets, and beyond the tchotchkes in boxes, I yanked loose my ancient pull-up bar, secured it to the door jamb, and gave it a yank or two to ensure it could support my now-heftier bulk.

“Okay,” said I to myself, picturing six-pack abs within the week. “What is my strategy?”

[Read more…]

Pray for Our Country

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I have never been religious in the “traditional sense.”

As the first boy in my family’s history to be Bar Mitzvah’d, I was honored. I was proud of my heritage but the oft-times dogmatic rituals that go with religion never spoke to me. For decades, I hovered between agnostic and atheist; my questioning, skeptical nature disallowing me from accepting that which I could not prove.

As the years faded, I evolved a spiritual philosophy that reverberated with that probing, doubtful me: Simply put, I believe there is an all-patient, non-judging, immensely intelligent, creative-in-the-extreme Higher Power. Call It “God,” “Spirit,” “Universe,” “Ghia,” or whatever you prefer; it is too vast for a name to define it anyway.

Yet, as opposed to the belief that he/she/it sits on high and determines or guides our lives, I believe that said “higher power” is actually the combined energy of all there is; whether that be an animal, plant, mineral, quark, atom, or supernova. Since we are all birthed of It, It is us and we access It whenever we choose. Actually, we are always in touch with It, even when we’re not trying to be. Like fertile soil, all we need do is plant our thoughts into It and It responds in the same fashion as a seed will grow when placed in dirt. It does not need to be coaxed nor asked; it just happens.

I am not so arrogant as to know that this is the ultimate truth but it works for me.

I also am aware that others might have differing views, and that too is fine with me. You do you. I’ll do me. Providing neither of us attempts to override the other, we’ll get along fine. I imagine that no matter what your beliefs, you agree with that.

I put all this out there because when I use the concept of “pray,” I don’t want you to think I’m asking you to do something foreign to your beliefs, such as go to Church or Temple or to repeat psalms or chapters if that’s not what you do. Should that be of solace to you, that’s wonderful. If, however, you’re more like me, please don’t let the use of the word prevent you from hearing the more important message.

Disclaimers completed, please, in whatever fashion you do so, and to whatever God or Higher Power you believe, pray for our country.

Pray that people of goodwill will be heard over the cacophony of hate and violence.

[Read more…]

Thank You to Our Heroes

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Maybe it’s because I’m “of a certain age” or I’m simply a curmudgeon, but boy howdy do I have a catalogue of pet peeves.

People who tailgate are head and shoulders top of the list. I can maybe, sorta, possibly justify this irk because it can be dangerous. However, many of the others just rub me raw for no reason in particular except, well, I dunno, just because.

As example, it really yanks my chain when I spot that stupid, senseless, ridiculous — even offensive — “fashion style” of one’s pants fastened below the butt. The way I see it, it you have to waddle while walking, holding your trousers up with one hand so they don’t plotz down to your ankles, you might want to rethink the manner in which you’re wearing your clothes; just saying. I don’t know why it irks me so much but, I’ll own it, it does.

Another annoyance of mine is the “inflation” of the word “hero,” now tasked to depict virtually anyone who does what is expected of them – or even less – with no sacrifice of their own.

“She is a real hero; she walks her dog every day.”

“My children are heroes; they clean their rooms without being asked.”

C’mon! Really? Can I be a hero because I paid my bills or managed to get out of my pajamas; choking down the terror and resulting paralysis I overcome on a daily basis during the pandemic? No, I think not. We’re all doing it, and by definition, we cannot all be heroes.

A definition of hero is, “a person noted for courageous acts or nobility of character; or who, in the opinion of others, has special achievements, abilities, or personal qualities and is regarded as a role model or ideal.”

The crisis in which we find ourselves has indeed brought forth genuine, true-to-life, tangible heroes, who despite risk, continue to push forward, contributing to the greater good while jeopardizing their own. Among all the mayhem, confusion, and anxiety of these days, I felt it an honor, as well as appropriate, to call them out. [Read more…]

Getting Though It – What Will the Future Be?

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Last week, I forecast that within a week the 1,000 United States COVID cases and the 120,000 international cases would seem nostalgic.

Sadly, they are; everyone saw that coming. I’m not a soothsayer. Oh-so-seven days ago, states were floating the concept of limiting gatherings to 250-500 people. How quaint is that? Seniors were outside; the Bay Area was bustling; coffee shops, diners, and bars were open for business.

Oh, what a difference makes one week.

Currently the U.S. now has 7,668 cases with 117 deaths. The world count has risen to 212,799 with 8,787 people succumbing. It is recommended that those of us 65+ “self-isolate,” a term utterly unknown but a few weeks past. Recommendations are that we limit crowds to fewer than ten. Pubs, restaurants and eateries are shuttered. The markets are off approximately 35 percent from their highs, companies are failing, average people — like you and me — are without income. San Francisco is closed. Hospital ships are being sent to New York and the West Coast.

Four to five days from now, this might read like sentimental history.

I am case-closed certain that I am not the only person who feels like he or she has been transported into a sci-fi, environmental, economic, post-apocalyptic, end-of-times, action-adventure movie for which I did not audition; nor did I have any interest in being cast. Certainly, soon, the credits will roll, house lights will come up, and we can rise from our seats and leave the theater; a great idea if movie houses were even open for business.

If someone would have written this as a plot for a movie, it wouldn’t have been green-lit. No one would believe it.

Nonetheless, here we are. There’s no sugar coating it; things appear dire.

So, now that I’ve harshed your mellow, let’s look at where we go from here.

Recently, I heard an eloquent, simple analysis of how we react. It went approximately like this: Something happens; we create a story about its meaning; that story in turn creates our reality, and therefore what we believe is possible or not. In effect, “What we say to ourselves determines what we do to ourselves.”

Don’t misinterpret; this is scary stuff. Real lives are being affected. Some people will not survive, others will suffer long term economic and physical damage. Thinking positively and placing our hands on our chests, closing our eyes, and chanting “Om”, will not eradicate the virus nor heal the economy.

Yet, while we gingerly, one-step-in-front of the other, shakily traverse the swaying rope bridge from what was to what will be, it is essential we keep first and foremost the notion that we will emerge from this fiery, molten, hellscape. The terrain in which we will find ourselves will be shaped by how we think now, today, as we struggle to endure. We need to examine the thoughts and beliefs — in effect, the stories — we are telling ourselves; if we are going to find our way to a better place.

To that end, some thoughts to remember.

[Read more…]

What Do We Do After The Election?

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As I click-clack away on my keyboard, we are less than one week out from the most divisive, disruptive, discordant, conflict-ridden — and expensive — midterm election in our history.

In the supposed interest of improving the lives of millions of our fellow citizens (not to mention our own), certain candidates and their supporters have espoused hatred, name-calling, and “dog-whistles;” rationalizing such actions (I suppose) with the logic: “The ends justify the means.” Woefully, some campaigns, once platforms for intelligent, wise, uplifting deliberation of principles and goals, have been jam-packed with half-truths, falsehoods — lies — with no regard for the damage to remain in the wake of the vote.

If you have read this far, I know you share my sentiment that Election Day cannot come too soon; our sanity depends on an end to this madness.

Yet, the bleak reality is that — although, yes, elections do indeed have consequences and next week’s will bring with it its own — very little will change in our national sentiment come Wednesday. Do not misunderstand; I am in no way cynically advocating to stay home and skip your responsibility. Do not misconstrue my statement to be, “It won’t make a difference.” It will. Whether you agree or disagree with the direction of our country’s trajectory, you have power: the ballot. Be not dismissive of this awesome privilege. One vote – your vote – does make a difference. Additionally, this is not another in the on-going cavalcade of public service announcements and celebrity lectures preaching at the masses to “get out and vote.” You know that. Go do it. You owe it to this country you call home.

What I am attempting to point out is that the disarray that got us to this heartbreaking state of affairs will persist after the votes are counted. Those who fail to understand history are forever condemned to repeat it. Should we therefore not address the conditions which birthed this fetid swamp, we’ll be standing in it again in 2020, 2022, 2024… I don’t think I could take this another time; I wager you feel the same. We must then — together — strive to end this national psychosis which smothers our nation.

Hence it is crucial that we take a different road.

To that end, I offer some ideas, no matter on which side of the political spectrum you find yourself. [Read more…]

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Scott "Q" Marcus 707 834.4090 scottq@thistimeimeanit.com

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