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Add one part satire to two parts sincerity. Sprinkle on a couple of rants. Stir liberally.
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Daily Blah FAQ
Who are you?
I'm the newly-appointed Future editor at Business 2.0 and the former San Francisco correspondent for Time Magazine.
Wow, so does this mean everything you write reflects Time Inc's opinion? Or do you perhaps have some sort of standard disclaimer to the effect that it doesn't?
Naturally, the opinions contained in this blog are not those of my employers. In fact, some opinions may be the polar opposite of my employers. Some may be the same, for all I know. Hey, it's not like I ask my employers their opinions about everything in the news, okay? Let's just say that if this were a Venn diagram with one circle marked "my opinions" and the other one marked "my employers' opinions", there would doubtless be some overlap. But neither I nor my employers are able to pinpoint exactly where that overlap is.
What is this Daily Blah thing?
An experiment for a column I wrote about blogging back in December 2001. All these years later, I haven't been able to kick the habit.
If it's called Daily Blah, how come you don't ... hey, wait, you're writing every day!
See? Told you I'd try harder.
Mister, you talk funny. Are you one of them furrners?
Why yes I am, as it happens. I was born, raised and educated in Great Britain. I've been living in the U.S. since 1996 and identify as British.
I say, old chap, you forgot the "u" in "colour."
No I didn't. I may identify as British, but I am also an American journalist writing for an American audience about mostly American issues. These two different sides of me are a constant source of tension. Nevertheless, Daily Blah will adhere to American English grammar and spelling.
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Daily Blah for... Tuesday, December 02, 2003
Body For Life II: Return of the Body
The pounds piled on alarmingly, but not surprisingly, over my 30th birthday weekend. Then, after Thanksgiving, the numbers on the bathroom scales were getting somewhat stupid. And to top it all, I found a note I'd put in my Palm years ago in anticipation of my reading it at this very moment (I can be very good about planning ahead when it comes to things like leaving myself future notes; less so when it comes to leaving my future self banknotes). "After the age of 30," it read, quoting some medical journal or other, "we lose 1/2 a pound of lean muscle weight per year. It turns into fat." Great.
So yesterday I took to the Body For Life book with a vengence. It's still the most comprehensive, all-round exercise and nutrition program I've ever seen. One round of weights and six very pleasant meals later, I saw what I'd done wrong when starting it the first time round, earlier this year. I hadn't been writing my results down as recommended. Shame on me. A writer not wanting to write things down? Ah, but it was precisely because I was a writer that I felt such things -- recording every bleedin' meal I ate, every weight I lifted -- would dilute my total output. (This is also why I don't write so much in these pages about the minutae of my everyday life, though today I'm evidently making an exception). Plus I hate being told exactly what to write.
And I hate being told anything in a condescending, aphoristic style. Especially not anything about physical fitness (must be a hangover from my schooldays), so the book hadn't helped. When it said "if you're failing to plan, you're planning to fail," I wanted to wring the neck of the nearest P.E. teacher. Really, the fact that I picked it up at all is the best testimony to the program itself, which is exceedingly easy to remember, shows its benefits relatively fast, and quite simply smells right. You lift weights twice a week for 45 minutes, do aerobic exercise three times a week for 20 minutes, graze on six small, balanced meals (half protein, half carbs) and drink ten glasses a water per day. You're done. And you get Sunday off to eat what the hell you like (I should add a caveat from my earlier experience: as long as you exercised the other six days).
Why am I telling you all this? Extra impetus. If I declare it in public, there's more chance of me sticking to it -- for fear of what I'd have to tell my friends if I stopped. Fear not, you'll hear no more unless I quit, in which case you'll read the bloggy equivalent of me eating my virtual hat.
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