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Tuesday, December 12, 2017

Less than Two Hours of Weekly Walking (or Its Activity Equivalent) Can Lower Mortality Risk

My wife Jack did indeed arrive home last evening after probably working the day at a Thai restaurant in the Guildford area. She may have arrived here around 8:20 p.m. ─ I was still eating.

I remained involved with the show I was watching ─ the premiere episode of Valor, which my younger brother Mark and I had somehow failed to watch as yet.

I keep quite a list of T.V. shows that I call up on our Android TV Box in (mostly) a sequential order ─ I need the list, or I would never remember all of the shows that we watch, for there might be as many as 40 at any one point.

Somehow, this series had not been placed onto the list ─ I likely tried to tune it in before it had yet aired, left it off the list at that time, and then never thought about trying for it again, thinking that it was present.

It was only yesterday that I read the evening's synopsis in a T.V. guide, and started wondering why I couldn't recall anything about the series.

And oddly enough, this reflection has just now made me research another show I can recall not seeing anything of beyond occasional previews, and which I have verified is not on my list either ─ probably for the same reason: SEAL Team.

I will have to tune that one in tonight.

Anyway, had I not tuned in Valor first last evening, I would have tuned in the season premiere of Marvel's Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.

I did not realize that the episode was going to be a double-episode ─ and it was very absorbing. Mark was unable to pull himself away to go to his bedroom around 10:30 p.m. like he normally would have, and thus ended sitting up until 11:00 p.m.

His clock-radio is set for anywhere from 4:10 a.m. to 4:20 a.m. to rouse him for work each workday.

Jack had disappeared upstairs into the mid-evening, and I was eventually to see that she had gone to bed, leaving the bedroom door somewhat ajar.

She must have been unusually tired.

It was possibly at least 11:30 a.m. before I made it to bed.

But what a time I had finding sleep! I never did get a good initial block of it ─ all night through it was strictly fractured sleep.

When I made a time check that might have been as early as 5:41 a.m., I felt like it was useless to try for another brief stretch of sleep, but I knew that Jack's eldest son Tho was probably going to tap on the bedroom door and call to her around 6:00 a.m. or soon thereafter.

The lazy 23-year-old will not bother himself to get to the SkyTrain on his own for the commute to work if his mother is here to take advantage of ─ no mind that she may have to work on into the evening that same day herself.

However, well before 6:00 a.m. she rose on her own and began dressing in the dark so as not to disturb me, not being aware that I was awake.

And he came to tap on the door and call to her ere she was done.

Once she had exited the bedroom, I waited until she finished in the bathroom and had gone downstairs before I also rose and dressed.

Jack was back home again before the hot water for my morning's hot beverage had fully boiled. The poor sleepy-looking girl came into the kitchen, gaining affirmation from me that I was up for the day.

She set up some rice to cook in the electric rice cooker, and then went back to bed.

My inadequate sleep was apparent to me, but I got busy adding content to the new post that I am constructing at Siam-Longings, one of my six hosted websites.

I actually managed to supply 1½ mornings' worth of content this morning, just as I did yesterday. So now I am a day ahead of schedule.

But I did not add the additional half-morning's content immediately after fulfilling what I had expected of myself this morning ─ I needed to break off and go and lie on my brother Mark's bed, covering up with the comforter.

If I succeeded in falling into any kind of nap before I heard Jack up and moving about, then it could only have been a very superficial nap.

I think that she tries to get to the Guildford-area Thai restaurant as well ahead of 11:00 a.m. as she can manage, and that was the case this morning.

It was after she had gone that I finished up that extra half-morning's work on the Siam-Longings post.

I was then ready for a true nap, but I had grown quite hungry. I scrounged up a reasonably small meal that I ate.

And then I spent an hour or so in prurient dalliance instead of pursuing that nap. When I broke free of the nonsense, it must have been around 1:30 p.m. by then.

I expect that I was down for something over an hour, and I did nap, but I still fell shorted on sleep. I have had to make another hot beverage ─ my third today.

I think I used two teaspoons of instant coffee in each of the first two drinks I fixed up today, so this time I only used one. I don't want to find myself wired again at bedtime and unable to feel like sleeping once I am in bed.

Actually, if Jack shows inclination tonight to sit up like she very often does, I may just tune in a Christmas movie after Mark has gone up to his room for the night.

We've had a fairly sunny day, I suppose.

I noticed last evening that the cul-de-sac outside looked rather wet, and it appeared so this morning; but I was never aware of any rain showers.

That meal I had earlier today seems to be weighing rather heavily within me. I would like to do some pull-ups out in the backyard tool shed, but I still feel overfull despite the reasonableness of the meal's size.

The shed has no electricity, so it's very likely that I am going to miss out ─ it is already 4:14 p.m. as I type these words.

In yesterday's post, I included a link to an article by Dr. Marc S. Micozzi detailing how research is finding that rigorous exercising is not healthy even for fit people: More exercise leads to MORE heart disease.

Well, I have found a companion article by him that pursues the same theme, making this overall slug of an athlete feel a little more complacent than I actually believe that I should be:


Obviously achieving no exercise at all such as walking in a week is going to be very harmful; but can it be true that just getting activity each week that still falls short of two hours of walking can lower mortality? 

What about all of those studies in recent years that declare how deadly prolonged sitting on a daily basis is?

If a person is not even getting enough activity in a week that equates to two hours of walking, then it is unlikely that that person is at least standing and avoiding the harms inherent in sitting.

So how can the sitting dangers be reconciled with any kind of mortality avoidance by getting, say, just 1½ hours of walking accomplished each and every week?

Pardon the feeble unintended pun, but this does not sit at all well with me ─ I cannot believe it.

However, I do of course see that the lowered mortality risk bestowed by the 1½ hours of weekly walking is only present when compared to someone who is not doing anything at all each and every week.

Thus, the study is not really recommending that we only need to get less than two hours a week of walking activity (or its equivalent). Rather, the study has indicated that any such small activity output is enough to reduce mortality compared to doing nothing at all.

But it doesn't make it a healthy practice by a long shot, in my estimation.

Let's move on ─ I want to post the following photos sent to me by my older maternal half-sister Phyllis, whom I sometimes mention here in my blog.

The photos were evidently taken this past Saturday, December 9.

Here is her description:

this is some of the foster family --we went for a Christmas dinner on Saturday at a farm who put on turkey dinners at Easter and Thanksgiving also. The price is pretty reasonable and everything is home made.

Phyllis and her younger brother had to spend some years in foster care, for her own father was apparently not up to the task of raising the two siblings; and my father wanted nothing to do with kids that were not his own.

I don't know the foster family, so they are strangers to me, but I will identify Phyllis in the two photos containing her:

Phyllis is at the left in this next shot:

And she is at the far right in this third photo:

Phyllis never specifically identified anyone in her message, so I have no idea if everybody is part of her foster family; or if possibly there is someone present among them who may have been there simply as a family friend, or a family member's spouse.

Well, it is now 4:49 p.m., and I still feel too logy to risk engaging the strain of doing those pull-ups ─ and it is practically dark now.

Therefore, there shall be no such activity for me today.

And I am going to close today's post now with this old journal entry of mine from 41 years ago when I was 27 years old, and living in a basement housekeeping unit in New Westminster.

I was renting in a private home located on Ninth Street, and not more than two houses up from Third Avenue.

The previous day's journal entry was for a Saturday, and indicated that I was leaving my room at 12:20 p.m. to catch a bus out to Surrey.

My maternal cousin Bruce Halverson and his fiancée Donna Montroy were having a marriage rehearsal of sorts out where they were living in the Whalley area at 1:00 p.m., for their actual marriage was to be in six days' time.

I was to be Bruce's best man.

My plan was to go directly to where my younger brother Mark was living ─ which I think was in a duplex unit located a fairly short distance down Semiahmoo Road from where it adjoins Old Yale Road.

We were likely going to attend this event together ─ I cannot imagine any other reason for going to his residence first.

However, I now do not recall where Bruce and Donna were living. Perhaps Mark lived so much nearer where I would be disembarking my bus that it made perfect sense to hook up with him and ride the remainder of the distance with him in his truck.

Anyway, since I never got back home to update my journal that Saturday, I expect the details will be in the Sunday entry.

And just in case it does come up, I had recently broken up with my 20-year-old girlfriend Melody St. Jean, who had gotten involved with Chris, a young mill co-worker of my brother Mark.

Melody, however, was actually staying in the bachelor suite of my old friend William Alan Gill, who was renting an apartment about four or so blocks from my room.

Melody and her furniture had been there for quite a few weeks by this time.

Originally, she and Bill were going to locate accommodation where all three of us could live...but that was before she met and became involved with Chris.
SUNDAY, December 12, 1976

Well, I didn't get to Mark's till about 1:15 p.m.; a call to Nell's [my Aunt Nell Halverson, Bruce's mother] proved I was too late.

Wendy [Bruce's youngest sister] suggested I call before coming over later.

When I did, I was told that Bruce hadn't returned yet, and that big Al [Al Stewart], Larry [Larry Ernest Blue] and Duck [Donald Fraser] were the sole partyers [sic].

So Mark took us to the Dell [Dell Hotel beer parlour or pub in Whalley] where we watched strippers, and drank 9 beer each.

He bought a case of beer and we went to Nell's.

By now all were there.

We had one or two, then the guys piled into Billy's [William Little] car and we set off to Lil's [Donna Montroy's mother] for our party.

What a time.

I passed out there once, being found in the basement.

I remember throwing a picnic table off the porch after several others started tossing things.

Arm wrestling was initiated at another point; big Al defeated my right arm for the first one, but I came back victorious and in fact beat all comers with either arm ─ Mark included.

Chris & Bill came later, and I gave Bill a physically rough time for wanting to leave to pick up Melody at the bar. 

But he went, with Billy, I think.

The women ─ Melody too ─ finally arrived, with 2 strange guys.

Spud [Lil's common-law husband or live-in boyfriend] got furious.

Al & Marie [Varga ─ the couple were renting an apartment in New Westminster] showed up with Ken [Al Varga's nephew], Garth [lost to memory], and Jasper [lost to memory] (today Al turned 28).

I recall little else.

The party shifted back to Nell's.

Seems Donna lost her rings in the hotel.

Lil was enraged at whoever threw her picnic table off the balcony; I wonder if she'll learn 'twas me?

I remember little of Nell's either.

Big Al & I left for the 7-Eleven ─ just after Shirley [Donna's slightly younger sister] and I had a good, long kiss! Wow! I'm getting really wild.

I filled up on submarine sandwiches and peanuts.


My next memory is being awakened by Mark in the morning to leave; only Jock [John Halverson; a younger brother of Bruce's] was conscious.

I drove.

I slept very badly.

The phone rang twice, but I never answered cause Mark wasn't up.

I quit trying to sleep at 3:00 p.m. I felt awful.

Dad phoned around 5:00 p.m. to tell Mark & I about an ad for firemen here in New West; apply at city hall, I guess. Mark wants me to get a form for him if I go.

Later, I again answered the phone. The caller identified herself as Donna, saying she wanted Mark & I to come over about 7:30 p.m. to help celebrate Al's birthday.

At first I assumed it was Donna Montroy, but it turned out to be Marie's [Varga] sister.

We went.

They had booze, and it went nicely.

Marie, Donna, and the other sister were involved, their mother, Al, his 2 kids, of course, a Drew and a Dave, and Michelle [an incredibly beautiful and mature 15-year-old who seemed a decade older]. This latter recently had 2 molars extracted, and developed an awful headache.

About 10:30 p.m. the party broke up, and I had Mark drop me off here at home; he was also taking ailing Michelle.

I remember last night Billy & Chris arm wrestling; Mark says Chris lost.

Al tonight said when we all went to Nell's, I tried to carry Shirley into the house, but a cross Lil demanded I put her down.

Maybe she does know about the table.

I remember so little; I couldn't recall the Vargas returning with us to Nell's; nor can I say how I got there.

Anyway, bed at 11:15 p.m.
I hope I didn't make that entry more unreadable by adding all of those intermittent explanations, but it seemed better to do that than to try and cover them all here after the finish of the journal entry.

If I am remembering correctly, Lil and Spud were renting a large house that was located on Old Yale Road right around 125-A Street ─ I know that they were very near to the railway tracks. 

If not for my journal entry, the only thing I would remember of that weekend would have been hoisting up the picnic table. 

I had forgotten ever kissing and enjoying Shirley Montroy so much ─ she was quite a naturally attractive, slim brunette. 

So long ago. It's almost dizzying. 

And yet I feel like that same young man, despite being 68 years old now.  

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