As I was slogging home from the grocery store—with a large knapsack of groceries on my back, plus two bags of groceries on each arm—I came to a realization. I realized the problem wasn’t the cabbage. The problem was that I’m an idiot.
You see, I’d been reading articles about “lifestyle fitness.” I’d been watching people stomp around with their nifty little Fitbits. I’d decided that I, too, was going to incorporate more exercise into my life—and I was going to do it without buying a damned Fitbit.
I decided that my 2017 New Year’s resolution (yes, I’m a bit behind) would be to catch the bus to the grocery store twice each week, then walk home with my purchases. It was a brilliant idea, and it went really well—until I tried it.
Misguided attempt #1: My plan, when I climbed off the bus at the store, was to buy cheese, bread and oranges. That was it. But then I saw the cabbages. The cabbages were huge—the size of watermelons—and they were just 49 cents each! Sadly, there was something I didn’t consider when I tossed that enormous cruciferous feast into my cart: Even if a cabbage and a watermelon are the same size, they are not the same weight. Cabbages outweigh watermelons by 273 pounds per square inch (that may be an actual scientific fact—I’ll look it up later) and the longer you carry a cabbage in a knapsack, the heavier it gets (that IS a scientific fact). I managed to carry my Cabbage of Spine-Crushing Death home—along with the cheese, bread and oranges—but I needed a hot bath and a nap just to recover, and if I’d been wearing a Fitbit, it would have recorded zero steps for the remainder of the day.
Misguided attempt #2: This time, I avoided the bin of enormous, on-sale cabbages. I stuck to my list, bought only what I needed, then headed off for my brisk walk home. Only it wasn’t brisk. It wasn’t much of a walk, either. It was, at best, a labored slog—punctuated with a nonstop stream of Inner Whining, plus frequent rest breaks because my arms kept going numb. How could this be happening? I had shunned the Cabbages of Spine-Crushing Death. I’d only bought what I needed. Could I be this hopelessly out of shape?
Well, the jury is still out on my fitness level, but my stupidity level has now been confirmed. When I did manage to get home—approximately three inches shorter, and with two numb arms, I weighed the pile of groceries I’d purchased. Turns out I’d bought—and somehow managed to drag home—68 pounds of food.
So, yeah, I’m getting into this “lifestyle fitness” thing. Any day now, I should regain full use of my arms. I hope it happens soon—I need more bread.