One for a healthy heart

"All the first year students should report in the seminar hall for a medical check-up." The notice-board on the college walls made this announcement. It is compulsory to record the medical history of every student in the college, so that it is easy to administer medical care in case of an emergency.

"So, what all will they record?" This was Leena's first question. Height, okay, blood-pressure, pulse, allergies, anything else except weight. She dreaded that part, because she had been overweight (on the borderline of being classified obese) right since her school days. Not that she didn't exercise or try to reduce her weight. She tried jogging, skipping, aerobics and many other things. But, she always did it under parental pressure. Surprisingly, she didn't pay heed to peer pressure.

"Leena, don't worry, you won't have to give your weight details," said Sumati, mischievously. "Why?," asked the others around her. "Well, you see, her weight is beyond the limits of the weighing scale!!" Everybody standing around poured into laughter. Leena, took it sportingly, but it always hurt her. Not that she was a lazy-bum, couch potato. She stood 5'8" tall, could walk for miles together or any given day, but her weight still was a concern to her. After college had begun, under pressure from her parents, she joined a gym, where she diligently followed their workout programme, hoping that she will lose weight. But, again, she dropped out of the gym at the very first excuse available.

Now, let us fast forward. Two years into college, Leena had made a nice group of friends. Everytime after the results were out, the group used to gather in a restaurant just to celebrate their success. Even if somebody had failed in a subject, (s)he would join the celebrations. But this time, they decided to go out on a trek to the small hillock just on the outskirts of the town. Excitedly, they all rushed to the hillock on their bikes and started trekking up the hill. While the group was moving ahead, Leena was stuck behind, because her weight didn't allow her to make quick moves up the hill. Sumati, who was with her because she always used to be, asked her to speed up. "But..... hmpf, hmpf, I can't go up any further," said Leena gasping for every breath of air. "It is too tiring. " "Come on, Leena, you can make it," Sumati couldn't think of anything better to encourage her. Leena continued, although she felt like her legs would break up into pieces, she had decided she wouldn't give up on the trek. The pain was too much to bear. Finally, almost an hour after everybody had reached the top, Leena managed to tumble up the summit. And she wasn't left with any strength to proceed further. She just gulped 2-3 glasses of cool lemon juice, which had a refreshing feeling.

At the summit the entire gang just sat and had lots of discussions over all possible issues under the sun. Suddenly, realising that they would need to start now, if they were to reach home in time, Leena and Sumati ushered the group to wind up and start the downward journey. It was a bit early, but Leena needed extra time than others to complete her downhill expedition.

When she came home, she withdrew to her room and tried to think what could be done about her weight? Dinner time came and went, but she wasn't able to make up her mind. She was completely embarrassed by today's outing. Something within her didn't want to take it lightly. She wanted to be fit and fine for every physical activity. For the first time, she realised the importance of all those health related articles she'd read on the internet. They always warned about eating right and exercising so as to stay fit. It finally dawned upon her that if she didn't take efforts to stay fit, not only would she end up at the back in treks, but also end up with heart problems, diabetes or blood-pressure. She desperately wanted to follow some of the fitness tips offered on the websites, but knew she couldn't stick to them as these tips never ever addressed beginners.

She then devised a plan for herself. Firstly, she would bring her diet under strict control. Not the kind of diet that aspiring models indulge in. She would limit the quantities of food she takes. Breakfast, which was normally healthy and sumptuous, needed no attention. So, during lunch it would be just two chapatis and a serving of rice, supplemented by ample amounts of salads like cucumber, carrots, etc. It shouldn't matter how favourite the vegetable is, the amount had to remain fixed. Dinner, would mean three chapatis only. Nothing more nothing less. And a strict cut down on intermediate munching. If she was hungry, it would be fruit juices, for she couldn't carry fruits to college. For the first three months, she would be just ensuring a discipline in her diet. Physical exercise was necessary if she wanted to reduce her weight. Leena decided to participate in the monsoon mini-marathon, which was 8-9 months away. To prepare for the mini-marathon, she would have to practice jogging. Since, it was a target for her to complete the marathon in respectable time, she would be forced to practice for it. And, to avoid embarrassment at college, she wouldn't be able to withdraw at the last moment. But, will she be able to run? She was determined to try!

Three months later.... Leena was sticking to her schedule. Her diet was under control for 6 out of 7 days of the week. Once in a while, she did give into the temptation. Her jogging efforts too were taking shape, albeit slowly. She was able to jog for 1 k.m. before tiring out. A good progress, for some one who had detested the idea of running around without purpose. Over time, she had realised improvements in herself. Although her weight wasn't coming down quickly- she lost only half a kilo in three months- she was feeling better. She felt fitter, lighter and quicker. Out of curiosity, she had got herself tested for blood-pressure and other conditions. She found out that everything was well within limits. Her blood-pressure was normal, sugar and cholesterol well within limits. And her exercise schedule continued like before, diet under control, jogging distance increasing gradually.

Now, almost a year has passed since Leena embarked on her fitness plan. It was totally self-motivated. No parental pressure or peer pressure. Just self-motivation. It all began with her desire to stay along with the rest of the pack during their trekking excursions. She realised the power of positive emotions. Previously, all weight-reduction plans had failed, because they were thrust on her. This time, it was she who had undertaken the task herself. And she couldn't let herself fail!! She completed the mini-marathon, 12km, in 1 hr. 45 min, a respectable time for her. Her weight too, had come down by 6 kilo, but her frame appeared still leaner and fitter and her waist was down by three sizes. This time, when they went to trek the hillock, she wasn't far behind the rest of the group!

Note: This post was written as a part of "20000 Bloggers for a Billion Hearts" contest for Indiblogger.in. Through this post, I wanted to convey the importance of self-motivation that can drive obese/lethargic people into doing the impossible. You can see my pledge on the extreme right gadget bar. I urge you to take the pledge too and spread the message for a safe heart.

Walking into.... just another day

He opened his eyes slowly and uncomfortably. Slowly, because he had slept after 12:30 AM in the night and it was just 5:50 AM in his watch. Barely, a five hour sleep. Uncomfortably, because when he came to senses, he realised the moistness around his neck and chest caused by the sweating through the night. Damn the hot, humid summer and the stuffy room, he said. Since he had slept late last night, he was in no mood to get up. But, the sultry summer and his east-facing window didn't make things any better. He could never sleep if there was light entering into his room. Again, damn those people who designed this hostel, with windows facing east.

He woke up grudgingly, wiping the sweat off his body while trying to get a grip of the situation. His stomach belched violently and along with it left a taste of the beer he had last night. Moving out of the bed, he cursed himself for drinking and eating more than he could handle and for the millionth time vowed to reduce his alcohol intake. The next moment itself, he knew, he wouldn't be able to keep his own promise. Not that he was a habitual or regular drinker, but being a student, he couldn't spend too much on alcohol. This meant that very few treats involving alcohol would not go beyond beer. It had been a treat in his honour. For the past month, he had been helping his fellow Teaching Assistants (TAs) with their TA-work. Those TAs weren't acquainted with the work assigned to them, although being TAs meant that they should themselves have learnt those things. He had sacrificed his research work and had a shown-down with his advisor and himself lagged behind with his TA-work. His fellow TAs gave him a treat (and themselves enjoyed much more than he did) to express their gratitude for his help. And they drank and ate merrily till the waiter told them to place their last order.

Nevertheless, all the merry making was over and now he had to face the day after an improper sleep and with a hangover. While going through his daily chores, he began planning his day. In the planning stage itself, he conceded that he would be forgetting to do half of the stuff. Giving a sigh, he resolved to prepare a to-do list everyday, before starting off from the room. The mood was still not so good. The daily activity of washing clothes seldom interested him. Darn those councillors who put a ban on the practice of washing undergarments in the hostel's washing machine. They felt that undergarments can spread skin diseases, but soiled sports clothes cannot. Where did this common sense come from, he said to himself, cursing them again. Any ways, he went through his daily ablutions.

The cold shower removed all the discomfort and made him feel fresh. The bath left him with a feeling that one would have if he/she entered an air-conditioned room on a hot afternoon. This period of the day is what he liked most. Grooming himself for the day, he did it in style and pomp. Talcum powder to prevent clothes from sticking the body after it sweats, deodorant to ward off offensive body-odour, which invariably came back after a few hours. Later in the day, he would be asking himself, why does he spend so much on deodorants if they can't keep body-odour away for eight hours. This was followed by applying hair-oil to his scalp, to keep the hair silken and shiny. Clothes that were always carefully chosen, creased and never soiled, went on next. Soiled clothes immediately found themselves in the wash bin, from where he would put them to wash once a considerable number had accumulated. Finally, he sat for his daily prayers. He didn't miss them, always starting the day by reciting prayers to various Gods and Goddesses. The prayers were in four different languages- English, Hindi, Marathi and Sanskrit. He prided in having a good command over all four of them. But at the end of all the praying and hymn-chanting lied only two wishes that he repeated to God and hoped would come true soon. One, was that his progress in research should accelerate now, and two, he wanted to complete his Ph.D. before his TA-ship, alternately termed as stipend, runs out. Today too, he was repeating the same prayers to God, but with more rigour.

It was now time for him to start for his lab, where he would spend the entire day trying to work on his research problem. With a final look at himself, he then packed his sack to carry various things like books, papers, sheaves of documents, cheque-book (?), etc. to the lab. To make sure he hasn't forgotten anything, he took a final stock of his room. Once assured that everything he needed was on his person, he locked the room and headed straight to the mess, wondering what would be served for breakfast. For him, breakfast was the most important meal of the day. If he had a sumptuous breakfast, he wouldn't come back for lunch, thus utilising the extra time for his work. As he entered the mess, lost in his thoughts on organising the day's work, he was greeted with the aroma of steamed idli and fresh, hot sambar. It was just the type of breakfast he needed. Light on the digestive system, yet sumptuous enough to skip lunch. Today, though, the reason to skip lunch was different. He wanted to give some relief to the stomach after last night's overload. Still lost in his thoughts, he collected his breakfast and sat with a few friends who had already begun munching on their meal. The topics on breakfast table were generally the same everyday. What happened last night, the headlines in the morning newspapers, the breakfast itself, politics in the institute and many more rumours. They all discussed most of these events fervently, while simultaneously munching their breakfast. As he gulped down the last drops of tea, he rushed to catch the bus to the department.

With the day becoming hot already, he was happy about the internal transport system which, if non-existent would have meant that he would have to cycle to the department. On a hot, sultry summer day, this activity would be torturous, he thought. He boarded the bus and found a seat next to the window. On a normal day, the bus would be crowded with students at this point of time. He and many of his colleagues used to plan their mornings such that they land up at the bus stop just after the lectures had begun. This ensured that all students who needed to attend lectures would have gone, therefore reducing the rush in the bus. Being summer vacation time, the bus was relatively empty. Sitting in the window seat, he waited for the bus to start. Along with it, would begin his journey into another day of a research scholar's life.