The 15 Minute Paint-Exercise Regimen that Will Change Your Life--GUARANTEED!

Last time, I wrote about an email I've been receiving lately that has the following subject line:  "So Now That You're Fat, What Are You Going to Do About It?"  (You can read that post by clicking here.)

It's an obnoxious subject line and I hate seeing it in my inbox because, sadly . . . it's dead-on.  I have gained some weight and seeing that email in my inbox reminds me of that fact and depresses me.  I'm especially depressed when I go on to read about the exercise programs and regimens designed to take off the fat.  They're incredibly grueling and I think their main strategy is to kill you and let the normal flow of decomposition take care of the weight loss.

For example, my wife bought a Jillian Michaels' 30-Day Shred video.  It's a 20 minute workout that you can do everyday.  If you keep up on it, Ms. Michaels promises that you'll see tremendous results.  I don't know if she's right or not.  See, I've tried to do this on two separate occasions and each time . . . after about day 4 or 5, I found myself at the Dr.'s office trying to figure out why I  was having chest pains, shortness of breath, chronic back spasms and shin splints.

Each time, they've told me I'm healthy and they've sent me off home with a laugh.  But I'm not laughing.  Because the only reason for my symptoms--that I can determine--is that I'm not man enough for Jillian Michaels.

In fact, when I boil it down, I'm not man enough for exercise in general.  It tires me out.  If I do the easy, slow, low-impact exercises . . . I'm going to have to exercise 6 hours a day, everyday, for the rest of my life just to maintain my current weight and not gain any more.  If I do the quick, high velocity, hard-core Jillian Michaels' workouts, I may lose weight, but it will likely be while lying in a coffin.

And so, needless to say, that's a little depressing.  The death part, sure . . . but also the fact that getting back to my slim, high-school body is going to take forever . . . if it's even possible.   In the end, it kind of makes me want to just forget the whole thing and quit trying.  

And finally, that brings me to the home improvement point I wanted to make:  our homes can be just like our bodies.  They get pudgy and out of shape just like we do.  And when that happens, getting them back in shape can take so much work and effort that we sometimes feel like not even trying. 

This all hit home for me last week when my wife and I spotted a house for sale.  Now, I should point out that we're perfectly content with our home right now.  We had no plans to move.  We weren't looking for a new house . . . we weren't even thinking about it.  But then, late last week, we saw one that was for sale.  And it was amazing.  

It was located on the edge of a big city park in Zeeland.  A screened-in porch looks out over a baseball diamond.  There's a huge yard for the kids to play on--a yard that is mowed and maintained by the CITY (does it get any sweeter than that?).  It was a perfect home for my family . . . it was a house we'd looked at for years and always dreamed about . . . and now, it was for sale.  To top it all off, we called on the price and discovered, much to our shock, that it was in our price range.

We were excited.  Shocked.  Thrilled.  Nervous.  Excited.  And then we drove home.  And I walked into our home . . . and the scales fell off and my eyes were opened and I realized how out of shape my home was . . . how fat I'd let it become.

I looked and I saw cabinet doors that needed to be painted, others that needed to be touched up.  I saw chipped-up woodwork and dinged-up walls.  I saw wallpaper that was coming loose in a couple spots, a kitchen that needed a new paint job.  A back entry wall that needed to be cleaned and a floor that needed some work.  I saw little things like a broken switchplate or two and some lights that were burned out.  And I saw big things like carpets that needed cleaning, porch screens that needed sanding and repainting, and the exterior trim that needed to be completely redone.

If I was going to try to list this house and get people interested in time to have a chance at this other house, I would have to list it now--almost immediately.  But I couldn't.  I had months of "home exercise" to do before my house would be even close to being in shape. 

That was a depressing realization. It's exactly how I felt about myself after receiving my "So Now You're Fat" emails:  getting back in shape was going to take months of grueling work and effort.  In fact, getting back in shape (both me and my house) was going to take so long that I found myself wondering if I had the energy to even start. 

But since we were interested in this new house, I decided I needed to buckle down and start working for hours on end for the foreseeable future until I had all these little projects finished.  But then, before I started my work, we toured that new house and decided it was not for us.  Beautiful on the outside . . . but not big enough for all my kids on the inside.  The whole new-house-thing was a no-go and I slowly downshifted and slid back into my planning-to-live-in-our-current-house-for-awhile mentality.  

However, even though we're not moving anytime soon (as far as I know) this experience has taught me something.  It has taught me that you never know when the right opportunity might present itself when it comes to buying a new home.  That particular home wasn't the right one for us . . . but who knows . . . next week we might find the perfect place.  That meant I still needed to tackle the jobs at my home and get them out of my way.  So I resigned myself to horrible nights of grueling, 4-hour and 6-hour shifts with only time to sleep and eat in between.

But that's when the light dawned and hope sprang to life.  See, right around that time, I read an article about the benefits of walking for 15 minutes a day while eating the right food. 15 minutes a day?  I re-read the phrase . . . I could do that. And that's when I realized that I don't need to do the Jillian Michaels' Kill-Yourself-To-Get-Thin Exercise program to see results.  I can watch what I eat and I can find time to walk or jog 15-20 minutes every day.  Something low-impact and manageable . . . something I won't tire of instantly . . . .  Something like that will produce results in the long run. 

Oh, I may not ever find my way to the cover of People magazine . . . but at least I won't be able to nestle my mountain dew in my belly button when I'm trying to change the channel on the tv.  

Once that dawned on me . . . I realized the same is true with my home.  I looked at all the projects I had sitting around and I realized that each one of them could be tackled . . . in tiny, bite-size chunks . . . if I'd just allot 15 minutes a day . . . or even every other day. 

With that in mind, I've decided to implement something I'm calling RepcoLite Paints'15 Minute Paint-Exercise Regimen that Will Change Your Life.  Yeah, it's a mouthful . . . but it's going to work.  And it's going to produce results.  And I'm going to invite all of you to try it. 

Next time, I'll tell you how it works. 

So Now That You're Fat ....

Now, I don't know how this happened, or what I looked into once upon a time on the internet, but suddenly, I'm getting emails with the following subject line:  "So Now That You're Fat, What Are You Going to Do?"

OK . . . when I started getting those emails, I  found I had a couple questions.  First off, who thought up this marketing campaign?  I mean really, as a marketing guy, I found myself wondering who thought this was a good idea to start an email campaign with that subject line.  After all, starting with a line like that is no way to win friends and influence people. 

Try that kind of brutal honesty on a first date--(or a second date--or even on your wife of 50 years) and see how far that gets you.  Seriously, can you picture it?  You arrive home after a long day and your wife greets you at the door.  You give her a hug and then, before you pull away you give her another hug.  Then, you kind of step back and reach out and poke her in the stomach.  And then, just to make sure, you slowly and gently  squeeze her sides with both hands.  Finally, you loosen your tie and say, "wow honey, now that you're fat, what are you going to do?"

Yeah, just try that.  I dare you. 

It doesn't take a behavioral specialist or an FBI Profiler to know that uttering those exact words is going to end in domestic violence.  Those words are just not the kinds of words we use in normal conversation. Which is why I'm always a little stunned and surprised when I get that email in my inbox.  Do they truly think that belittling me, teasing me, mocking me is going to urge me to take action? 

Yeah, that's the first question I have whenever I find this little gem in my inbox.  My second question, however, is much more important:  How do they know?  Think about it:  How do they know that I've gotten fat?  Are they watching me with hidden cameras?  Tracking my purchases at the store and keeping tabs on how many Hostess Apple Pies I'm cramming down?  Are they keeping tabs on the clothing sizes I buy?  The numbers of pairs of sweatpants in my wardrobe?  Did they figure it out because they've monitored my phone calls and have heard me refer to sweatpants as "my wardrobe"? 

Yet, as mystifying as that is (it's probably got something to do with GOOGLE), as much as I wonder how they figured out my secret . . . I still have to come back to one sad little harsh reality, though:  They're right.  And even though I don't necessarily like their assessment or agree with their blatant, in-your-face honesty, I can't dispute the facts:  I'm pudgy.

I've let myself go.  I eat more than I should and rest more than I need.  In fact, I usually double those activities up and do one while I'm doing the other.  As a result . . . I've blossomed.  I've found myself digging through my dresser, looking past shorts and jeans and looking instead for sweatpants or things with stretchy waistbands.  I've noticed that my baggy sweatshirts are kind of clingy and that my clingy sweatshirts are like a second bulgy and unnattractive skin.  Finally, and most alarmingly, I saw video of me swimming in the lake with my kids on vacation.  It was truly horrible to look at.  So much pasty skin occasionally breaking the surface of the water like some kind of large fish going belly-up.  Horrible.

At any rate . . . the bottom line is that I've let things go and I need to get them under control.

And that brings me back to that original email.  Now that I'm fat, they have tons of suggestions for me.  Oh, I haven't opened the email to look, but I know it's all about exercise regimens and diets.  In fact, everywhere I go, everywhere I look, I discover that the only way out of this mess is to buckle down and spend at least 6 hours every night doing crunches and jumping jacks.  It's overwhelming to realize how much exercise is necessary to get back to my suggested weight. 

No, I take that back.  It's not overwhelming.  It's overwhelmingly depressing.

But, the good news keeps coming.  See, after I discovered that I was fat (thanks to that long email campaign designed to thoroughly convince me I'm a blob), I made a secondary (though equally depressing) discovery about my home.  It seems my home, like me, has also fattened up.

And I'll explain what I'm talking about in the next post.  Hang with me and check back tomorrow! 

The Great Disassociation, part 2

OK, in a previous post, I mentioned something I called The Great Disassociation and how it's such an important concept when it comes to selling a home.  See, when we live in our homes for any length of time, what typically happens is that we become blinded to the condition of the home.  They're our homes.  We see them everyday.  And as a result, little things kind of slip by us.

For example, I have a wall in my bedroom--and this is embarrassing to admit--that had a nail hole in it.  I had tried to hang a picture and I put it in a spot I didn't like.  So, I pulled the nail out, moved the picture and then spackled the nail hole.  Impressive, right?  Well, not so much.  See, that's as far as I got.

In fact, while that happened over 2 years ago, I just noticed the other day that there's still a big white spackled spot in the center of the wall that has NEVER BEEN PAINTED!  I've left that undone for over two years and I never really even noticed it.  It became the new normal and it never jumped out at me as something to think about doing.  (I told you it was embarrassing).

Another example is this:  my basement has a musty odor in the Spring and Fall.  If I run a dehumidifier, it goes away and smells fine.  However, what usually happens is that we get used to the smell.  We walk into our back entry after a day out and it smells like our back entry.  I don't even think about it.  But every now and then my mom will stop over.  She'll walk in and say something like "I should get you our dehumidifier--that way you could clear out that musty smell."  She doesn't mean anything negative--she's just offering her help.  Problem is, she's offering her help with a problem I didn't even realize existed.  And it's because I live there.  I get used to it.  I don't see it as an area of concern.

That's what I'm getting at--how we live with certain aspects of our home for so long that we don't even see them as trouble-zones.  And while we're living in our homes, that's not such a big issue.  But when we're trying to sell our homes, it becomes enormous.  After all, I may not notice the spackle spot on the bedroom wall . . . but new buyers will.  I may not notice the musty basement stink . . . but new potential buyers will.  And who knows . . . those things might be enough of a turnoff to steer those folks away from my home.

So that's why the Great Disassociation is so important.  It's all about disassociating yourself from your own home--about forgetting that it's yours--about looking at it with new eyes--with the eyes of potential new buyers.  Doing this is going to help you spotlight some of the areas that are going to need your attention--areas that should be repaired or attended to before you put your home on the market.

So, to do your best to eliminate these little turnoffs, you first need to find them.  And to find them, you need to look at your house as if it was somebody elses.

Now, that's not easy to do . . . so here's what I recommend.  Drive away some night and go out for dinner with your family.  Maybe, if you're brave, invite an honest and good friend of yours along.  After dinner . . . and here comes the hard part . . . drive up to your home and do your best to pretend that it's not yours.

That's right.  Don't pull into the driveway--because it's not your house.  Don't pull into the garage--it's not yours.  Don't get the mail out of the mailbox, don't pick up the newspaper off the sidewalk . . . treat this house as if it's one you just drove by, saw the "For Sale" sign, and stopped for a look.

Park on the road--where everybody else would park--and get out of your car.  Look at everything--what's the mailbox look like?  Is it rusting away on the post?  Will you have to replace it if you buy the home?  Will you need to stain the post? 

Check out the roof--that's always one of the first things I look at--what condition are the shingles in?  Does it look like you'll be replacing it in the next couple years should you make the purchase? 

What about the trees in the yard?  Do they look healthy or are they full of dead branches?  And what about the yard?  Is it green and growing or brown and dead?  Is the grass cut or completely growing out of control? 

As you walk up the driveway, pay attention to the cracks or the weeds that are growing there.    What about the landscaping in the front?  Is that out of control?  Are the bushes growing like mad or have they been trimmed nicely?  Are there weeds choking out everything else?

Check out the front steps--are they covered with newspapers?  Are they littered with flower pots full of dead plants?  Are they full of cracks?  Is the welcome mat a mess?

What about the front door?  What shape is it in?  Is it rusting?  Is it peeling?  Is it faded and boring?  Could it use a new color, a new paint job?  Are there spiderwebs everywhere?  Dead leaves?

You get the idea.  Do that . . . analyze your home that way . . . and take notes.  Look at it as if you might be purchasing it.  What jumps out as you as a neat feature?  Would it be better if you did x, y or z to enhance it?  What jumps out at you as a big turnoff?  Is there anything that you instantly would have to fix if you bought the home? 

After you've gone around the outside of the home, it's time to head inside and do the same thing.  Analyze everything and keep yourself in the mindset that this isn't your house.  Keep telling yourself that everything you see that's not perfect is going to have to be repaired by YOU (the new buyer). 

Do this walkaround (and through) your home separate from your spouse--and then meet up later and compare notes.  What did he or she see that you missed? 

And if you've got the guts and a thick enough skin . . . ask an honest friend or two to do the same.  And don't chew them out when they let you know what they see either.  Ask them to give you their honest opinion of your home as viewed from the road by potential buyers.  Ask them not to sugar-coat anything.  You want the straight scoop--you want to know what they see.

After you've done this, take all this information and analyze it.  Some of the things are going to be too big to tackle when you're trying to sell your home.  As nice as a loft in the garage would be, you don't need to build one to sell the home.  But, if the front door looks dirty and old and the mat is worn out and the mailbox is rusting . . . well, those are all little fixes that will go a long way towards your goal:  getting people in your house so they can see what's inside and hopefully fall in love with it.  Think about it.  And give it a try.