Obese? Oh, please!

I like sports that aren't really sports. Right off the bat, this gets a little tricky. What is a sport? The dictionary says a sport is a "physical activity governed by a set of rules." Thanks to that hopelessly nebulous definition, driving my car around town is a sport. So is making Hollandaise sauce.\nDriving a car and making sauce are obviously not sports, though as for the latter, you need to have some serious forearm-strength to do all that whisking. So for the intents and purposes of this column, I'll append the provided definition of "sport" to include "… that can be a substitute for working out." Sorry, baseball, but you don't make the cut. Now go sit down next to Scrabble and foosball.\nPerhaps now you understand why I like sports that aren't really sports. Billiards, golf, table tennis and the countless other non-sports that are still broadcast on ESPN are all A-OK in my book. ESPN2 may as well rename itself the "World Series of Poker" Channel. Sure there's plenty of skill involved with all of those, but none of them leave me with shin splints or require me to take another shower before I can move on to something else, like eating an entire pint of Chunky Monkey ice cream in one sitting while watching the "World Series of Poker."\nI mention all this because in the last week, I've been told I'm fat and inactive by two people who don't know me all that well: the federal government and this very publication you are reading right now. Fortunately, I'm not the only one at whom the insults are being hurled. So many Americans are obese and inactive that the epidemic has almost overtaken tobacco as the number-one cause of preventable deaths in this country. Since I may very well be obese, I had to ask myself if I'm inactive. The last time I went to the Student Recreational Sports Center was to play an intramural dodgeball game, which our team lost quite badly, even for dodgeball. The closest I've come to a cardiovascular workout in the last year came when I walked up three flights of stairs in Ballantine Hall and sat at my desk panting for the first ten minutes of class. Maybe it's not so bad. I can see my feet when I look down, and I don't have to pay for a second seat when I fly. At least I'm not fat and dead. Yet. Then I'd really be inactive.\nSuffice it to say, when I read an editorial in the publication that employs me saying, "America, you're fat" (IDS, March 8), I naturally take offense. But then I look down at my slight paunch hanging out and wonder if it is true. Luckily, I don't even need to get out of my desk chair for the answer to that. Thanks to the Body Mass Index calculator from the National Heart, Lung and Blood Institute (www.nhbi.nih.gov), I learned my BMI (the litmus test for obesity) is an unremarkable 24.1, which is considered "normal weight." A BMI of 25.0 is "overweight," and 30.0 is clinically obese. CNN had me convinced I was one Steak 'n Shake meal away from an early grave, but now, thanks to this number I don't really understand, I feel like the picture of health. Excuse me while I pause for a moment to flex proudly in the mirror.\nFor now, I can rest easy knowing that when the Indiana Daily Student says, "America, you're fat," it's not actually talking to this American. And, somehow, I did it all by playing quasi-sports. "Wow, Scott, you look like you've lost weight!" Thanks, I'll say, I have been playing more pool lately.