Last week, my daughter and her husband went to the doctor for physicals. The doctor told my daughter that her Body Mass Index (BMI, a ratio of weight to height) was a bit too low, meaning that she would probably feel better if she could put on a little weight. I'm sure I'm not the only one who wonders how THAT could happen in MY gene pool.

But anyway, cool. Wouldn't you think the "cure" for that ailment would be something like Oreos and whole milk? No such luck. He told her that the best thing she could do would be to exercise and build up her muscle mass.

Then it was her husband's turn. His BMI was a little on the higher end of the scale, but the doctor told him that it could be easily fixed. The best thing he could do would be to exercise.

The irony is inescapable.

If I ever pull myself together sufficiently to write another book, I'm going to title it "I Hate It When Exercise Is the Answer." I hate it mostly because exercise ALWAYS seems to be the answer. Pick up any women's magazine on any given week. Exercise is prescribed for weight issues, heart issues, diabetes issues, depression issues - if you've got issues, you're gonna have to exercise. If your issues are with exercising, as mine seem to be, you're just out of luck.

I suspect that what I really hate, though, is not the notion of exercise per se, but the idea that I've known all along what I SHOULD do but just haven't done it. It's the same with the "Sunday School answers" of reading the scriptures and saying your prayers. You can hope all you want for some mystical answer that will bring you that "mighty change of heart," but when it comes right down to it, those are the answers that always come up.

Maybe it's time for me to grow up and admit that it's because they're the right answers.