Author’s Note: This is the time of year when people make New Year’s Resolutions, many of which involve getting fit to improve one’s appearance, health and happiness. I applaud any such effort but thought you might want to read this post before doing anything foolish.
Can I tell you something?
I’ve been on a quixotic quest for physical fitness almost all my adult life. It started back in the mid ‘70s when I caught the running bug along with millions of other Americans, and after a couple of false starts it became a daily routine interrupted only by occasional illness or injury. That I became a devotee had nothing to do with aspirations to become a competitive athlete, and not so much to look good as to feel good.
As regular Laughable Feast readers have gathered by now I was a big fan of getting high back in my salad days, and when I discovered that running releases endorphins which make you feel euphoric for a time after you finish before soreness sets in, well, you get the picture.
I did engage in other athletic pursuits, most notably basketball, and I played racquetball when it was a thing in the ‘80s. I also briefly got into handball but quickly discovered there’s a reason people use racquets. Beyond those endeavors, all of which involved aerobic exercise, I adopted a modest regimen of strength training at home in an attempt to fill out my frame and discourage anyone from kicking sand in my face, and that too became a nearly daily ritual.
But that’s not what I wanted to tell you.
The conscious effort to achieve physical fitness is exclusively a first-world phenomenon. Hitting the gym is not top of mind when you are living in abject poverty and trying to not starve to death, or you live in a war zone.
But for those of us fortunate to be relatively comfortable and secure, most people like to look good, feel good, and be in the ‘pink of health’ – a term from the 16th Century when the word pink referred to the peak of something, and then it was fashion not fitness. Today, wearing garish designer work-out wear is for many people as close as they’ll get to being in the pink.
The problem with pursuing the pink of health and a sculpted body is that, aside from the precious few physiologically and psychologically gifted people who actually enjoy it, most of us would rather not do the hard work necessary to achieve and maintain those characteristics. I too belong in that category. To put it another way, I would like to have climbed Mount Everest, but I don’t actually want to do it.
That is the reason people seek ways to look better, feel better, and be healthier without putting in the necessary hard work. And why every year millions of people join gyms and quit their membership less than six months later.
Even of the more than 70 million people who hold membership in a gym or fitness studio of some kind, only half report going at least once a week. And I’d venture to guess that half of the people who say they are going weekly are lying.
Still, fitness is projected to be a $45.7 billion industry in 2025 and continues to grow like it’s on steroids. Planet Fitness, with over 2,000 locations, is the largest chain of sweat shops but hardly alone handing out towels. There’s also, LA Fitness, 24 Hour Fitness, Lifetime Fitness, Crunch Fitness, Anytime Fitness, Orangetheory Fitness, Blink Fitness, Snap Fitness, and Sitaras Fitness. And because no more trademarks containing the word fitness were available, there’s Gold’s Gym, Equinox, Lifetime, Pure Barre, Curves, and the good ol’ YMCA, among many other small chains and one-off exercise parlors.
But that’s not what I wanted to tell you either.
Even stipulating that there are millions of Americans who regularly if not religiously exercise and stay in reasonably good shape, there are many millions more who want the gain without the pain and look for alternative ways to achieve the beach bod of their dreams.
Which would explain the existence and short-lived popularity of countless exercise and diet programs designed to prey on the weak of flesh and soft of mind. These are known as fads, and over the past eight or so decades there have been more than you can shake your flab at.
In the 1940s, when the nation first looked in the mirror and thought maybe it was time to do something, simple exercises became all the rage. This meant sit-ups, push-ups, pull-ups, and jumping jacks for guys. And stretching for the gals because it was believed at the time that it was not just unladylike for females to work out, but they simply weren’t capable of it. This was of course belied by the fact they did lots of running and heavy lifting around the house, not to mention working in factories to support the war effort. But bear in mind it was only twenty years earlier women weren’t considered capable of casting a ballot.
In the 1950s, with the trauma of World War II behind us and only the small one in Korea to worry about, it was time for America to let down its hair, loosen up, and have some fun. But we still wanted to get in better shape, and so it was that roller skating and roller derbies became part of the zeitgeist.
But when the Wham-O toy company noticed that Australian kids were playing with bamboo hoops wrapped around their waists they created a plastic version in 1958 they dubbed Hula-Hoops which took the country by storm. Soon millions were twirling this simple device, some more gracefully than others, and having fun doing it while enjoying the fitness benefit of body movement. But unless you were hula-hooping several hours a day every day, which would either be a sign of mental illness or cause it, the fitness results were generally disappointing.
The 1960s were a turbulent time in America clouded by the Vietnam War and roiled by racial strife, cultural change, and civil unrest. The population was exhausted so it’s no surprise their solution was to get fit by doing nothing. Which is why the most popular fitness program of the decade was the Vibrating Belt, which consisted of a small motor mounted on a platform with – you guessed it – a belt attached.
The exercise enthusiast would simply stand on the platform with the belt wrapped around their butt, turn that sucker on, and voila, vibrate into shape. These devices simulated hula-hooping but, since the user wasn’t required to move, had even less physical benefit. Tripping on acid likely had better physiological results.
Spurred by all that inactivity, and enabled by an innovation in exercise shoes, running became a thing in the 1970s. When Dr. Jim Fixx published his bestseller The Complete Book of Running in 1977, millions bought the book, laced up a pair of ‘waffle trainers’, and started jogging around parks and on city streets wearing designer shoes and sportswear. But when people discovered that running, or even jogging, was a lot of work and not a lot of fun, they stopped doing it, and when Dr. Fixx died of a heart attack in 1984 at age 52 – while out for a run – the craze was officially over.
Also, after the Vietnam War ended and the Watergate scandal proved Tricky Dick really was a crook, the Disco Era launched, and America hustled its way back to happiness.
But toward the end of the 1970s, someone no doubt dazed by a disco ball came up with the bright idea that dancing could be just the ticket to get people in better shape, and Jazzercise was born. The idea was to get fit by grooving to a perky mix of jazz music, using movements drawn from ballet and yoga with a little kickboxing thrown in. Classes led by instructors who were qualified to teach them because they looked great in a leotard started cropping up all over and by the time the 1980s dawned the country wasn’t in much better shape. But there were beta tapes available so people like me could watch really fit women in leotards.
And speaking of fit women in leotards, around that same time Jane Fonda managed to shake off the stigma of ‘Hanoi Jane’ and launch another craze called Aerobics. The strenuous workout routines were less dancy but still very watchable, and her television program and tapes became hugely popular.
She helped define the so-called ‘Fitness Era’ in America when being fit became mainstream and people at parties discussed not whether they exercised or not, but which program du jour they ascribed to, and as America’s fitness fashion coach Jane popularized what would become the required uniform of a tight leotard, leg warmers, and a headband.
She was also at the vanguard of a movement where celebrities of all stripes cashed in on the craze and Richard Simmons developed a strong following of people who did not look good wearing a tight leotard, leg warmers, and a headband but did so anyway. His Sweatin’ to the Oldies videos were a smash success and caused millions of people to realize they should not be dancing for any reason.
All that dancing and heavy breathing, whether from actually doing it or just watching, endured beyond the Fitness Era but gradually morphed into other forms because you couldn’t go to parties anymore and be au currant if you were still doing Jazzercise or Aerobics. Which is why in the 1990s millions of people began practicing Tae Bo and taking spin classes.
Tae Bo was the brainchild, if you can call it that, of one Billy Blanks who became a popular parvenu by taking elements of Jazzercise and Aerobics and creating an exercise program that was a mix of martial arts and boxing, and dancing to hip-hop instead of jazz. He also managed to get filthy rich and for a time became a regular guest on various television programs where people could watch Tae Bo instead of actually doing it.
Spin Classes also became wildly popular, at first I imagine because they promised adherents the luxury of sitting down on a stationary bike. But when these unsuspecting saps learned the classes involved being yelled at by a maniacal physically fit instructor to get ‘out of the saddle’ and peddle furiously for long periods of time, then ease off a bit for a brief period of time, then peddle furiously again, they rage-quit spinning. Still, Spin Classes were the first real appearance of exercise programs which brought people together to both support and compete with one another. This group dynamic can be very motivating and even exciting until you realize you’re the slowest one in the herd and likely to get eaten by lions.
The turn of the century saw the return of dance fever and Zumba took the country by storm. Or at least the people who were sick of kick boxing or spinning their way to fitness. Zumba was a Latin-inspired dance workout which offered the promise of a slimmer, fitter you simply by shaking your booty.
And since even that proved to be too much work, Barre became a thing. Inspired by the movie Black Swan, women who wanted to channel their inner ballerina engaged in a low-impact regimen of dancing and stretching while hanging onto a railing. A few men also hit the Barre because they either wanted to be a ballerina, or meet a ballerina, or because they simply misunderstood it wasn’t that kind of bar.
By the time the 2010s arrived, people were no longer satisfied doing this, that, or the other thing to get fit and decided to do them all at once. The CrossFit program was founded on the belief we’re all born to be Olympic decathletes but just too indolent to realize our potential.
This new craze consisted of high-intensity workouts which include old-school elements like calisthenics, push-ups and pull-ups, and pumping iron, but also draws heavily from gymnastics and aerobics, all while adopting the now de rigueur group format that is somehow simultaneously encouraging and discouraging. It seemed we’d finally arrived at the most complete and perfect exercise program, until it was discovered that except for actual Olympic decathletes no one could complete a single workout without suffering serious injury or cardiac arrest.
And not to be outdone, already-fit fitness nuts came up with an updated version of the Jane Fonda workout except done at breakneck speed. This so-called High-Intensity Interval training (HIIT) has caught fire in the 2020s and calls for participants to engage in exercises for only short intervals but, as you might have guessed, with great intensity. Like CrossFit, HIIT is not for the faint of heart and would be wildly popular if you didn’t have to be in peak condition to even consider doing it.
But that’s not what I wanted to tell you either.
Good health and physical fitness should not require a fad or a gimmick. It should be something all humans do because it strengthens our cardiovascular system and musculature, improves our performance and mood, and adds years to our lifespans. But of course, human nature being what it is, we want all those benefits but need help doing it.
For some, help comes not in the form of a program but a device which promises to get us fit. Universal Gyms, Nautilus and BowFlex Machines, Treadmills, Nordic Tracks, Ellipticals, Stationary Bikes, Abdominizers, Ab Rollers, ThighMasters, Body Blades and countless other contraptions all hold such promise but only if you actually use them. Which is why the vast majority of these devices either sit idle collecting dust or serve as cat’s cradle clothes closets.
And that of course explains the enduring popularity of gimmicks, all of which promise better health, beautiful bodies, and all the benefits of physical fitness while requiring zero effort.
These include the Vibrating Belts popular in the ‘60s which proved fat doesn’t just jiggle away, and Electric Muscle Stimulation machines that are the same thing except you don’t even have to stand up. The more recent version is the Waist Trainer which is simply an elastic belt that would have us believe you can simply squeeze fat off when instead it just relocates elsewhere.
Requiring even less jiggling and stimulating and squeezing are Sauna Suits which promise to melt away fat by donning a full-length Hefty bag. Better yet are gimmicks which simulate movement without you having to loco the motion.
The Slender Bender was basically a chaise lounge that did the sit-ups for you while you enjoyed a margarita, and Hawaiian Chairs which were just a swivel chair for you and your daquiri.
In the internet age, there of course has to be a computer gimmick, like Wii Fit which promises to get you fit by gaming. And I’m sure people who do this have very fit thumbs. My personal favorite, however, are what are known as Shake Weights which do very little to get you fit but look so much like a sex toy they’ve been satirized on Saturday Night Live.
What I really wanted to tell you is this.
At my ripe old age and after three total hip replacements, I no longer run or jog or play basketball, or anything else that might even accidentally involve contact. I ride a stationary bike and do some core work six days a week without fail and walk a mile or two along the Columbia River any day the weather permits.
I say this not as a boast but to underscore how hopelessly addicted I still am to the feeling I have after exercising. Not the feeling I have while doing it which at this stage is best described as nausea.
I can honestly say that I’ve never sought the easy path to health and fitness by using a gimmick or fancy device or ascribed to any sort of program or joined a gym. I exercise at my chosen time of day, in my own home, at my own pace, and while wearing clothing that although designed for such use is neither designer nor particularly attractive. Or pink. But as I approach the point when even my modest low-impact program will no longer be possible, I confess that I may soon fall for the siren song of fitness gained doing next to nothing. I may look for a Hula Hoop or Vibrating Belt, but I’ll probably just watch old tapes.
Thanks for listening. Talk soon.