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T H E G R A N D R A P I D S P R ES S
WEEKEND WARRIORS, DO YOUR THING Illustration by Milt Klingensmith Amby Burfoot The Washington Post
H
ealth and fitness experts have long described “weekend warriors” in a mildly negative way. They used the term for individuals who exercised irregularly, perhaps in weekend pickup games. They warned of muscle strains, or much worse — something akin to the heart attacks suffered by those who occasionally shovel snow. Weekend warrior meant, more or less, “knucklehead.”
But no more. A large new study in JAMA Internal Medicine has revealed large mortality benefits for all manner of weekend warriors. Those who worked out once or twice a week had a 30 percent lower mortality rate (during the study period, from 1994 to 2012) than those who didn’t exercise at all. Despite their infrequent workouts, these individuals exceeded the 150 minutes a week of moderate to vigorous exercise advocated by U.S. and world health organizations. In that regard, their good results might have been expected. The study was based on more than 63,000 British and Scottish adults with an average age of 58. A research team from the United Kingdom, Australia and Harvard University collaborated on the analysis. “We were surprised to find that cardiovascular and cancer mortality were also lower among the weekend warriors,” said author Gary O’Donovan, from Loughborough University in England. “We also found the benefits are much the same in men and women.” Another subgroup of the 63,000, termed the “insufficient exercisers,” fared just as well as the weekend warriors. The insufficients accumulated 60 minutes of exer-
“This study is important because it tells us that the total amount of exercise, rather than how often it is done, is the relevant factor.” I-Min Lee, Harvard epidemiologist
cise per week, less than half of the recommended amount. Yet they reaped a 31 percent lower mortality rate vs. the non-exercisers. The greatest rewards came to those who exercised three or more times a week. These individuals tended to go longer and slower than less-frequent exercisers but logged impressive weekly totals of about 450 minutes. They had a 35 percent lower all-cause mortality rate. “This study is important because it tells us that the total amount of exercise, rather than how often it is done, is the relevant factor,” co-author and Harvard epidemiologist I-Min Lee said. “It gives permission, if you will, to be a weekend warrior. However, we
would prefer regular activity over the week to decrease the risk of injuries.” The JAMA article did not track the incidence of injury. But injuries couldn’t have been too great of an obstacle, or the weekend warriors wouldn’t have been able to continue their routine and reap the gains. In the United States, the latest report by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention indicates 51 percent of adults don’t meet the guidelines for aerobic activity and 79 percent don’t meet the guidelines for aerobics plus strength work. Many midlife people with active family lives and burgeoning careers find it difficult to make time for regular workouts. As a result, fitness advocates often encourage a
small-steps approach to exercise. Don’t be discouraged if you don’t have the time to train for a half-marathon, they advise. Focus on what you can do, not what you can’t. Anything is better than nothing. The new research seems to confirm this. Before 2008, U.S. activity guidelines urged three to five workouts a week — three if they were vigorous, five if more moderate. This changed in 2008 with a new set of guidelines that dropped the frequency recommendation. The new guidelines emphasize total minutes per week — 75 if you do vigorous exercise, such as running, or 150 for more moderate exercise, such as walking. This has led to a variety of popular new approaches such as HIT (high-intensity training) workouts, CrossFit and seven-minute apps. They have not been around long enough for anyone to track injury rates or lifetime payoffs. Still, the new programs are aimed at helping people get fitter with a more modest time investment. “Our results show that weekend warrior and other activity patterns may provide health benefits even when they fall short of physical activity guidelines,” said study co-author Emmanuel Stamatakis, of the University of Sydney. “This can include programs with one or two sessions per week.”
Heroin: shock in 2004, Lazarus parties in 2017 Susan B. Lovell
Anyone living in West Michigan in 2004 will remember the unbelievable headlines that Grandville High School students were dying from heroin overdoses. In this affluent suburb anchored by Christian Reformed congregations, how could this happen? Ask Mary and Larry DeBoer. They had no idea their 17-year-old son, Matt, was using heroin until the Grandville High junior was found dead in a friend’s car from an overdose on Dec. 15, 2004. Yes, the parents knew he was drinking because he’d gotten two MIPs as a freshman. Indeed, they were concerned enough to send him off to Teen Challenge, a Christian recovery program in Minnesota, for six months. Back at Grandville High, Matt did well for a while. But by the fall of 2004, Matt began hanging out with Chris, a classmate Mary DeBoer knew was a bad influence. But she understood. Her son had always had a heart for the underdogs, and Matt felt sorry for Chris. A LIVING NIGHTMARE
Then one day, Mary got a call from the school that several students suspected of using heroin were being tested by the Grandville Police. Matt was one of them. Mary immediately left her nursing job and went to the school. She was relieved, but not surprised, Matt’s test was negative. Her son, who never missed church or Wednesday night catechism, had been falsely accused. The relief didn’t last. Against his parents’ orders, Matt began spending more time with Chris, sneaking out at night to meet him. The Tuesday night before Matt died, the close family had dinner together, with Matt teasing his mom when his French dip sandwich turned out to be ham, not roast beef. Afterwards, Matt went to his room downstairs. Mary later saw Chris’s car drive by, but Matt was home, so she went to bed.
Mary DeBoer and her son, Matt, months before he died from a heroin overdose in 2004. Submitted photo
The next morning, she discovered the downstairs slider was open, and Matt was gone. Then the phone call in every parent’s nightmare came. Matt had snuck out to meet Chris, who had injected him with heroin. When Matt passed out, Chris left him in the car the rest of the night, telling his own mother that Matt was just drunk. Chris’s mother had him bring Matt a blanket on the 15-below-zero night. Matt died alone in a freezing car of a heroin overdose. Facing wrongful death charges, Chris agreed to set up the big drug dealer, Eugene Atkins, whose Eastown corner at Ethel Street was known for drug transactions. The sting worked. In 2006, ten young heroin users testified in federal court against Atkins, sending him to prison for life. In 2014, on the 10th anniversary of Matt’s death, Mary texted Chris
that she could finally forgive him. Two months later, Chris died from a heroin overdose. Several years after Matt’s death, Mary, who says “a part of my heart is gone. I miss Matt everyday,” had to leave the job she loved as a nurse. The office was writing excessive prescriptions for opiods, and Mary knew too much about the consequences. Paid according to patient satisfaction, many doctors, like in this practice, will over-prescribe because otherwise patients report them for not treating their pain. Mary tried to convince the physicians that heroin addiction and overdose deaths usually start with painkillers. When her office continued over-prescribing, Mary left the job she had loved for 18 years. Today, Mary is a detox nurse at Pine Rest Christian Mental Health Services, on the front line of substance abuse. “Check their shoes,” she was told when she started. The relentless drug dealers con their way into the unit, so they can sell patients a “fix” to counteract the agony of withdrawal. “The patients wear old dirty sneakers. We spot the dealers, because they come in wearing expensive brandname athlete shoes.” Ugly as that reality is, Mary has come across one even worse. She learned from the 20s-something patients she cares for in detox about a new thing called a Lazarus party. A group of heroin addicts gets together and assigns one of them, like a designated driver, to come stocked with narcan. Then, they deliberately overdose on heroin, sometimes mixed with carfentyl — an elephant tranquilizer. When they stop breathing, the narcan designee revives them. The Biblical Lazarus came back from the dead. Not all the young people stuck in the disease of heroin addiction will. — Mary DeBoer is a founding member of the first FAN (Families Against Narcotics) chapter in Grand Rapids, which is meeting at 7 p.m. Feb. 23 at St. Mark’s Episcopal Church, 134 N. Division Ave. in downtown Grand Rapids. The meeting is free and open to the public.