I first heard the term “Dunlap’s Disease” when I was in the Air Force. It was not an official military term but was used to describe what could happen to the body of those who retired from the military if they failed to keep up physical activity. It was called Dunlap’s disease because it described what happens when the expanding belly folds over the pants and the belt. Hence when your belly “done lapped” over your belt. Now I must be honest I have observed this more in the male as opposed to the female species. I never could understand why when the girt of a man got too big for his regular sized pants that instead of getting a larger size; he just continued to wear the too small size. He would fasten them under that belly with his belt. Most women would just go and get a size that would accommodate their increasing girt and if need be get pants with elastic in the waist. You think it is because we have had the practice of the increasing belly during pregnancy?
My son and I decided to hold each other accountable as to how many steps we accomplished each day. He manages to get in at least 10,000 a day by just doing his regular job. Because I am at the computer for my job, the steps that I get in are considerably lower. Okay…okay…they are almost none. So, I decided to start my, “Walk Away the Pounds” regimen again. My initial goal is 5,000 steps per day until I increase to 10,000.
I got out my DVD and began the routine. I started to feel rather dis-eased before finishing the first mile. You see there was something that seemed to hinder my leg lifts, grapevines, and kicks. It was then that reality set in and I realized that I had fallen victim to “Dunlap’s Dis-ease”. It is not a full blow case…just a little bit. I can still wear my pants at my waist. No wait, what happened to my waist? When I went to put my hands on both sides of my waist they just slid off. I felt like Sponge Bob Square Pants. But all is not lost. This is just motivating me to be cured from the dis-ease. No medicine will cure this one baby, simply good old-fashioned exercise. One more mile to go and I can fall out on the couch with an apple fritter in one hand and the remote in the other!
