Vacation is good for your bodyVacation is good for your body

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Sorry, folks, you'll get no carefully researched statistics or rigorous fact-checking this week. I've been on a long-overdue vacation, and frankly, that stuff is too hard. I mean, come on -- actually presenting factual information in a pithy and piquant manner? That sounds a lot like work. This time around, I'm shooting from the hip and letting you all enjoy the full benefit of my dubious experience.

There are several benefits to vacation, aside from the obvious one of escaping the stress of work for a few days. Chances are, you'll be exposed to lots of life-affirming, Vitamin D-enriched sun. Many of us spend too much time absorbing light from our computer monitors or the artificial light of a casino and not enough time basking in the rays of ol' Sol.

Of course, chances are that on vacation, you'll end up exposed to more sun than a begonia needs in a year, so don't forget to pack the sunblock. I can tell you from experience that getting second-degree burns on the first day of a vacation definitely cuts into the whole "fun" thing. Not that there isn't something oddly relaxing about lying in an air-conditioned hotel room, slathered with aloe vera lotion, watching cable and trying not to move for fear of sending agonizing bursts of pain through your body.

I think I ended up pouring a half-dozen bottles of the stuff on me that week. That was more than 20 years ago and I still think I can catch a hint of aloe vera in the air when I sweat.

This week, I walked somewhere in the vicinity of 53 miles in a day and a half while alternately dragging and chasing my two children and septuagenarian father around a brobdingnagian, rodent-themed amusement park. The previous week I walked a grand total of 12 feet, maybe 13.

Fortunately, I offset this massive calorie expenditure by eating lots of greasy fast food and ice cream. The details are a little fuzzy right now, but I think at one point I may have eaten a deep-fried butter stick. I can't be sure, though. Once you begin hallucinating about giant rats and robot pirates, it's difficult to accept anything your senses tell you.

I also spent a few hours cavorting in the heavy surf, alternately riding and being pummeled by waves. Oh, and dodging well-tanned people dressed from neck to ankle in rubber, wielding Fiberglas polymer weapons of skull destruction. I'm ready for the fetish and fantasy ball. Nothing is going to shock me after coming face-to-face with the leather-skinned surfing grandmas of Ventura.

I'm also well aware of a whole slew of joints and muscles that don't get a regular workout in a terrestrial exercise routine. There's a very good chance I would be in better shape if someone would move the ocean to a more convenient place.

The point of all this, if I'm going to force myself to make a point, is that vacations, no matter what you do, are good for breaking your routine. Perhaps you've been, oh, I don't know, stopping for coffee and a doughnut every day on the way to work. You'll probably break that pattern on vacation, simply because you don't know where the good doughnuts are near your hotel, and besides, that fresh fruit at the continental breakfast looks so tasty.

You may, as I did, find yourself walking or swimming much farther than you would normally. I would never recommend you jump-start an exercise program by walking 12 hours straight, but if you've already done that, you might as well take advantage of it and keep on walking every day and swimming more often, as well.

You might even, as I did, spend some time with someone you haven't seen in a year who has lost an astounding amount of weight in that time. It might start you to contemplate how your appearance has changed, or hasn't, in the previous year. "Hey," you might think, "if that bloated sack of sweaty lard can drop a Vern Troyer's worth of weight, what the hell is stopping me?"

Finally, a nice vacation photo of your pale, sand-covered belly posted on the fridge will remind you that whipped cream is a topping, not a dessert in itself.

F. Andrew Taylor is a Las Vegas freelance writer. His column appears twice monthly. Contact him at fandrewt@cox.net.