When you play sports and run have you ever experienced chest pains or dizziness?,” the doctor asks my 14 year old son. He is getting his annual physical and the question is routine. Danny answers: No.
The area where my shoulder and arm meet has been hurting all morning and I haven’t thought much of it until the doctor asks the question and then for a brief second I get real nervous. The doctor has moved to swine flu and that calms me down. They physical continues. Danny gets a clean bill of health.
It was worse during my older son’s recent trip to the doctor a few weeks back. His blood pressure is a little high for someone his age so the doctor spent a lot time making sure he wasn’t experiencing any chest pains or fatigue. As he asked my son some follow up questions and discussed how blood moves through the body and heart, the pain in the same area of my chest seemed to get worse. After about 30 seconds, I started to sweat a little. Anxiety set in. Luckily, the doctor started talking about something else and my panic and pain passed.
A couple weeks after my older son’s doctor visit I was sitting at my desk shortly after I arrived at work and was pretty sore in the same area. A few minutes later in a meeting, the soreness returned and for a moment so did the panic. Luckily, the meeting was pretty interesting and my mind drifted away from the pain and back to the subject at hand. I was worried somebody had noticed.
Finishing up my work out on the elliptical machine at the YMCA, I looked at the results. I had gone for 60 minutes, covered 4 miles and burned more than 600 calories. My average heart rate was 146. My peak rate was a little over 170. I smiled. A couple months earlier I had noticed that I had become a little lax about my exercise routine. I was putting in about an hour four or five times a week, but I wasn’t pushing myself. On the elliptical machine I was never going more than three miles and rarely getting my heart rate above 140. My weight lifting routine had shortened. I wasn’t lifting enough weight and was skipping or eliminating some of the more difficult exercises, especially for the shoulders, arm and chest.
The only downside to this new routine is I’m working all my muscles a lot harder and feeling sore. Of course the pain in my legs, stomach or back doesn’t ever trigger panic. But as I describe above, sometimes any soreness or twinge in my chest makes me worry something more dangerous is happening to my 46 year old body. That more exercise sometimes makes me worry or even panic about my immortality seems ironic. For the first time in life, chest pain can cause extreme anxiety. Five years ago a hard workout and some soreness in the chest was just that.
Let me know what you think.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Do I need to lighten up on the lights?
Driving by a house near my street earlier this week, it pleased me to see lights on in nearly every room of the good-size Colonial.
“At least I’m not alone,” I thought.
A few second later my happiness waned. I know the dad and he probably is doing his best to make sure every light in the house is not on at once.
Pulling on to my own street about a week earlier around 8 or 9 p.m., I noticed that there were lights on on all three floors of my split-level house. As always, we had the most lights on in the neighborhood by far. The unusual thing was there was no one home at the time.
My own father was and is a stickler about turning off lights and keeping the thermostat at 62. When I was first married and tried to enforce the same rule, my wife told that my father and I were both nuts and pushed the thermostat up to 70.
My dad’s mom, my grandmother, worried about her utility bills even when she was older and her sons paid the bill. They implored her to turn up the heat during the winter, but when I visited I always found her wrapped in a blanket with the thermostat set around 60 in the dead of winter. Like many children of the Depression, she worried about money even when she didn’t have to.
My wife’s theory on lights is that it costs you more to turn them on and off so our children have gotten used to turning a light on and leaving them on when they leave the room. They have apparently never noticed or don’t care that their father runs around behind them turning off the lights they leave on.
When they have to pay the bills themselves do you think they will follow my example or continue to waste money and harm the planet?
I’d also appreciate any advice on how to convince my family to change their ways.
Let me know what you think.
“At least I’m not alone,” I thought.
A few second later my happiness waned. I know the dad and he probably is doing his best to make sure every light in the house is not on at once.
Pulling on to my own street about a week earlier around 8 or 9 p.m., I noticed that there were lights on on all three floors of my split-level house. As always, we had the most lights on in the neighborhood by far. The unusual thing was there was no one home at the time.
My own father was and is a stickler about turning off lights and keeping the thermostat at 62. When I was first married and tried to enforce the same rule, my wife told that my father and I were both nuts and pushed the thermostat up to 70.
My dad’s mom, my grandmother, worried about her utility bills even when she was older and her sons paid the bill. They implored her to turn up the heat during the winter, but when I visited I always found her wrapped in a blanket with the thermostat set around 60 in the dead of winter. Like many children of the Depression, she worried about money even when she didn’t have to.
My wife’s theory on lights is that it costs you more to turn them on and off so our children have gotten used to turning a light on and leaving them on when they leave the room. They have apparently never noticed or don’t care that their father runs around behind them turning off the lights they leave on.
When they have to pay the bills themselves do you think they will follow my example or continue to waste money and harm the planet?
I’d also appreciate any advice on how to convince my family to change their ways.
Let me know what you think.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Master Motivator?
Carrying two white plastic garbage bags (one filled with plastic bottles, the other with aluminum cans) and a paper bag filled with bottles I walk into the redemption area of my supermarket and start loading plastic in a machine. The scratchy, grinding sound of plastic being pulverized reminds me of nails against a chalkboard so I squirm slightly as I send 40 or so bottles to meet their maker. Otherwise, this is the one weekly chore I enjoy most.
I do it willingly, with a smile and without being reminded.
Why?
After loading all the bottles and cans into the machine, I drive to the other end of the parking lot, enter the store and proceed to the customer service desk. Handing Marissa my redemption tickets, I wait with a smile. Marissa is probably the only supermarket employee I remember by name and the reason is connected to the question above. She adds up the tickets on a calculator, opens the register and hands me nearly $5. I promptly place the money in my wallet and drive to get a coffee, using a little less than half. The rest stays in my wallet for some treat later in the week.
As I raise two teen-agers and run a newsroom, finding ways to motivate my sons, the staff and myself has grown into a serious study. Reading and listening to the latest books helps. Trial and error has also yielded results as has updating the lessons my father taught me.
My euphoria when Marissa hands me the money is proof that instant reward is a pretty good motivator. I feel a little guilty about being so happy because I often preach to my sons and others that the key to success is to approach each day asking “What can I contribute?” not “What can I take?” According to that approach, cutting the lawn, vacuuming the pool and raking leaves should be as rewarding as returning bottles and cans.
Let me know what you think.
I do it willingly, with a smile and without being reminded.
Why?
After loading all the bottles and cans into the machine, I drive to the other end of the parking lot, enter the store and proceed to the customer service desk. Handing Marissa my redemption tickets, I wait with a smile. Marissa is probably the only supermarket employee I remember by name and the reason is connected to the question above. She adds up the tickets on a calculator, opens the register and hands me nearly $5. I promptly place the money in my wallet and drive to get a coffee, using a little less than half. The rest stays in my wallet for some treat later in the week.
As I raise two teen-agers and run a newsroom, finding ways to motivate my sons, the staff and myself has grown into a serious study. Reading and listening to the latest books helps. Trial and error has also yielded results as has updating the lessons my father taught me.
My euphoria when Marissa hands me the money is proof that instant reward is a pretty good motivator. I feel a little guilty about being so happy because I often preach to my sons and others that the key to success is to approach each day asking “What can I contribute?” not “What can I take?” According to that approach, cutting the lawn, vacuuming the pool and raking leaves should be as rewarding as returning bottles and cans.
Let me know what you think.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Am I nuts or what?
“They are too expensive. Eat something else,” Mary tells me as she starts putting away about a dozen bags from the two different stores she shops at each week. She used to shop at three, but changed her routine a month ago. I have to admit, I don’t know why.
Based on her remark about cost, you probably suspect I asked for an expensive steak or perhaps lobster tails. Not quite. Just some shelled Walnuts.
My dependence on Walnuts began about three months ago when she brought home a big bag without me asking for them. Since then, they have become a great way for me to get some quick protein. As soon as I was hooked , however, the issue of cost came up.
“Walnuts cost a lot,” she told me after I remarked how much I liked them.
“Too many nuts aren’t good for you,” she added.
She went on to explain that Walnuts would cost more come November because Walnuts are in high demand around the holidays.
I didn’t say anything, but did notice that on the shelf where the Walnuts once sat was a big package of red licorice (her favorite), about a dozen packs of gum, Devil Dogs and Chips Ahoy cookies. A little to the right was a bowl filled with three different kinds of candy bars. In the pantry where she keeps various crunchy snacks were three bags of potato chips and two bags of tortilla chips. In the fridge I found assorted ice cream, including some individual size sundaes made by Friendly’s that I suspect are pretty expensive.
My wife is a great shopper, but sometimes her priorities seem a little off.
Let me know what you think?
Based on her remark about cost, you probably suspect I asked for an expensive steak or perhaps lobster tails. Not quite. Just some shelled Walnuts.
My dependence on Walnuts began about three months ago when she brought home a big bag without me asking for them. Since then, they have become a great way for me to get some quick protein. As soon as I was hooked , however, the issue of cost came up.
“Walnuts cost a lot,” she told me after I remarked how much I liked them.
“Too many nuts aren’t good for you,” she added.
She went on to explain that Walnuts would cost more come November because Walnuts are in high demand around the holidays.
I didn’t say anything, but did notice that on the shelf where the Walnuts once sat was a big package of red licorice (her favorite), about a dozen packs of gum, Devil Dogs and Chips Ahoy cookies. A little to the right was a bowl filled with three different kinds of candy bars. In the pantry where she keeps various crunchy snacks were three bags of potato chips and two bags of tortilla chips. In the fridge I found assorted ice cream, including some individual size sundaes made by Friendly’s that I suspect are pretty expensive.
My wife is a great shopper, but sometimes her priorities seem a little off.
Let me know what you think?
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Half a brain ?
“Here you go honey,” the young woman in the drive-thru window says as she hands me my order.
After depriving myself of anything tasty for a week, my stomach steered me to Wendy’s and an order of French Fries on a recent Friday night.
But my good mood was interrupted by this smiling young face handing me fries my nose could detect long before they passed out the window and into my vehicle.
Her mistake ? Calling me “honey.”
I’m not sure what disturbs me more. The fact that she called me “honey” or that it bothers me when a woman half my age calls me "honey." As recently as a few years ago, it wouldn’t have affected me. Suddenly “honey” from someone so much younger seems too informal, fake and almost patronizing. Half my brain tells me to lighten up and roll with it. The other half feels disrespected. The half that is telling me to lighten up is right but I just can’t accept it.
Let me know what you think.
After depriving myself of anything tasty for a week, my stomach steered me to Wendy’s and an order of French Fries on a recent Friday night.
But my good mood was interrupted by this smiling young face handing me fries my nose could detect long before they passed out the window and into my vehicle.
Her mistake ? Calling me “honey.”
I’m not sure what disturbs me more. The fact that she called me “honey” or that it bothers me when a woman half my age calls me "honey." As recently as a few years ago, it wouldn’t have affected me. Suddenly “honey” from someone so much younger seems too informal, fake and almost patronizing. Half my brain tells me to lighten up and roll with it. The other half feels disrespected. The half that is telling me to lighten up is right but I just can’t accept it.
Let me know what you think.
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