Fighting fit
I’ve never seen so many people out walking. Brisk strides and powerful strokes, as they make their way through lazier footpath wanderers like me.
For a state with so many cars and two wheelers, why are there so many people wearing out their Reboks, Nikes and Adidas? Since when did health become an option?
Growing up I knew that my Goan adult life would offer me the following:
Good food, good booze, and if well endowed, a good stream of nights with the opposite sex.
Health…good health specifically was never on the plate. Plates were for food and lines. No need for the pink glow that brushed over a healthy man’s cheeks. The only time I had pink cheeks was when they got spanked a little too much, and then too I can vouch, fitness was not on my mind.
My grandfather used to always say that health was for the people who had less money and needed to stay fit to earn some more, or the rich, who needed to live long enough for their bountiful deposits to go bankrupt. We medevials were in no need of well oiled hearts or clean lungs. My grandfather with his regular glasses of feni, lived to be 86.
So I beg you, unlace your trainers and get back on the couch. Let’s light up and toast one to America, the king of fast food.
