Living in the Healthiest State
Yes, Americans are fat, we know this. As recently reported in Time Magazine, 2/3 of us are overweight and half of that population is considered "obese". Our kids are fatter, even our pets are fatter. When broken down by individual state, the winners of the cellulite contest can be keenly identified as ahem... below the Mason-Dixie line, with Colorado's arch nemesis Texas ranking #7.
My state (of course) is the least obese of the pack. With a population full of skiers, snowboarders, mountain bikers, backpackers, kayakers, rock climbers and every other imaginable sportsperson, our bragging rights as the fittest state has brought Colorado to a whole new level of snobbery.
Are we secretly gloating over the ever-expanding ass of Texas?
Um, is the sky blue?
Of course we are gloating. We Coloradoans believe in karma. Every time a Hummer with a Lonestar license plate tears up the cryptobiotic soil at 10,000 ft, we know its coming back to them in the form of high blood pressure. When the 450 miledrive to Denver is littered with Tour-bus sized RVs, it gives us sadistic pleasure to think of the triple bi-pass the driver will be having in the next 5 years.
Yes, we are sick. Consequently, now that we own this title of anti-fat, we have become obsessed. We aren't letting it go. Runners-up, Massachusetts and Vermont have got nothing on us. They will have to pry the trophy from our cold, bare, death-by-altitude sickness hands.
Being a single mom, without a gym membership, or a snowboard, I feel the pressure to adhere to my fit Colorado peers. Being of German decent, and built like a little teapot (short & stout), I can't help but notice the obsessive, Nalgene-bottle-holding, Polar-Fleece-Wearing, RCI-Shopping, Vitamin Water-Drinking health nuts who surround me in my daily life.
I'm constantly swerving to avoid the packs of cyclists who think wearing Cliff Bar-sponsored spandex means they have the right of way. I see more dogs wearing backpacks than school kids toting their books. In other words, I feel the heat; the health is fairy poking my underarm fat with her ski pole wand.
Don't be one of the few Coloradoans who IS fat, the vindictive pixie spits in my ear.
So I make do with what resources I have. There will be no solo trek with a 3 year-old to the summit of a Fourteen-er for me. However, after she goes to bed, and the dishes are done, I pull out the Wii Fit and do my own makeshift workout.
As I huff and puff on the balance board, I can't help but wonder if my neighbors are secretly spying on me, waxing their boards, inflating their tires, joking over a six-pack of the local micro brew, while they laugh at the so-not-hardcore single mom who is so desperately trying to run with the wolves.
Cause if I'm not fit, then how can I claim the bragging rights? The snobbery? The well-deserved superiority complex of being healthy in a country drowning in its chins? Nothing else has worked, so if fear, envy and intimidation can get me on a virtual treadmill...so be it!
This is an original Rocky Mountain Moms Blog post.
