\ Our Neighbors Speak The Morrisville and Preston Progress, Wednesday, November 29,1995 - 3 The population of the Triangle exceeded one million in November. What impact has the rapid growth of this area had on your life? CHRIS BURNS PRESTON With the growth there is less and less wilderness, but if you want the outdoors, there are places five minutes down the street that you can go to. DAVID BURROUGHS PRESTON This place used to be a forest and now it’s grown. It’s nice that we have a grocery store right around the corner, but all the subdivisions and shopping cen ters look the same. ANTHONY LEE MORRISVILLE I’ve lived here all of my life and I used to deer hunt all the time. The growth around here has made it so that there's not many places to hunt anymore. Also the traffic is worse. ELLA KINSLOW MORRISVILLE The growth kind of pushes you to the back burner. Even though there are more convenient places to go, people don’t have any respect for seniors any more. CHARLES KINSLOW MORRISVILLE Today, people ignore folks my age. They don’t want to service you. They just want your money. JEREMY SIGLER PRESTON The school classes are a lot larger. That’s good because you have more people to talk to and go places with. Battle with weight gain leads to not-so-pleasant strategies By Roxanne Powers Nine months ago I quit smoking. After smoking for more than 20 years, I never really believed I could quit. However, I was detOTnined to give it my best shot, and if that meant I mi^t gain 10 pounds, well, so be it: I’d work it off later. Imagine my surprise when three weeks after quitting, I hardly ever thought about smoking and I hadn't gain^ an ounce! I was so angry at all those martyrs who claimed toey still had cravings 10 years after they quit smoking, and without even consuming a calorie more, gained 10 pounds overnight. ”Oh sure," I thought smugly, "Those people are probably raiding their kids’ gummy bear jars and break fasting on bonbons." Th^ night I dreamed about gummy bears and bonbons, and when I stepped on the scales the next morning I was 10 pounds heavier. No sweat! I was sure that if I just started walking, and weighed myself again in a month, I would find I was in better shape than ever. In the meantime, I also "gained” sleep disorder and was unableTo sleep for more than jwo to .areeliours at a time.'Along with excess pounds and the sle^ deprivation, in crept a state of weepiness. One month later found me walk ing up to four brisk miles a day...and another 10 pounds heavier. I kept walking until it was too hot at even 5:30 or 6 in the morning. I also kept gaining. Final ly, I did what any self-respecting person who’d ever been more than 10 pounds overweight would do. I gave up on exercising until fall. I quit gaining, but I still wasn’t losing either...so I cut my hair hoping that the loss of a few ounces would fool my scales into thinking "we" were finally going into reverse. I even tried moving the scale around to different spots on the bathroom floor. No luck. Finally, in desperation, I went to my doctor who drew blood to rule out problems pertaining to too many white blood cells, or even "too many" hormones. (I guess hormones and white blood cells weigh a lot!) The only weight I lost was the green papery kind, but money doesn’t register on the scales. The doctor decided that my sleep lessness and weepiness were in dications of depression and put me on anti-depressants. One month later I still wasn’t sleeping, and still hadn’t lost weight, but I had devel oped almost constant headaches, and an aversion to my husband’s hugs. Needless to say, I ditched the anti-depressants. Some friends suggested that I drink lots of water to rid myself of impurities. I did that, but every where I went, people knew I was coming before I got there (slosh, slosh, slosh), and they seemed to lire of my standard greeting of, "Hi, how are you doing? Can I borrow your bathroom?" I decided that no one could possibly have that many impurities. I read about the virtues of chromium picolinate and vitamin therapy, iuid went to the health food store. I came home with a gro cery bag full of items such as chromium, B complex, E, lecithin, oat bran tablets, etc. I even searched to no avail for a recom mended edible-grade linseed oil. Then I remembered that some nutrients interfere with the absorp tion of other nutrients, so I began to space my vitamins about an hour apart. However, all the traffic back and forth to the medicine cabinet made me dizzy. I bought a loofa to bathe with, thinking that a vigorous daily scrubbing with it might create enough friction to "melt" some of those extra plump little fat cells just beneath the surface of the skin. I don’t know what my dermatologist would have to say about that, but I could swear those fat cells are still smirking. In fact, my thighs began to sport so many dimples that those little "boogers" must have been smiling ear to ear! Many women who have given away all their matOTiity clothes can attest to how effective that act of generosity is in guaranteeing a pregnancy. In fact. I’ve often wondered why couples with fertil ity problems don’t just buy a bunch of maternity clothes and give them away before spending thousands with fertility specialists. Anway, as you’ve probably guessed, I have given away all my "8’s" and "lO’s” and grudgingly bought cheap size "12s." I went the cheap route be cause of course it won’t be long be fore I would be back into the small er sizes. September crept up on me and still I hadn’t lost an ounce. I de cided it was time to put myself in the hands of (GASP!!!) Morrisville resident "Killer" Jan Kirkendall. This personal uainer and Cary Athletic body sculptor may appear to be an innocuous Pochahontas look-alike, but in fact, she is known for her vicious one-hour workouts so I sought reinforcement by con vincing another Morrisville resi dent to join me. Shortly after warming up she informed us that we would begin working with the Abductors. I said, "That’s nice, but who are they?" Killer Kirkendall barked, "On the floor! Abductors to the ceiling! Navel to the spine! Toe to the forehead! Point, flex, point, flex! Hold in those abs! Breathe!" "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Who do you think you are? I’m from Texas...you know that place where they say everything’s bigger? In cluding ^s? Are you trying to say you want me to suck in these abs and breathe at the same..." "On the floor, Powers, let’s work!" "Yes ma’am..." October rolls around and then November. Neighbors have ob viously noticed that the Roxanne working her fall garden is more substantial than the Roxanne who worked her spring garden because some of them are sending weight loss suggestions to me through my kids. While their concern and sug gestions are sincerely appreciated, they must not know that I could quote the fat grams and calories contained in the skin of a Spanish peanut. That I can recognize a car bohydrate in any disguise. That I’ve tried all the polyunsaturated fats and decided I’d rather be a buck during bow season than to eat them. About this time I caved in and bought a couple of expensive "12’s". (Expensive because the pricier clothing manufacturers know that some of us shoppers are willing to pay more for a label that lies and tells us and anyone else who happens to spot our labels, that we’re a size smaller than we really are.) But this is IT, I tell myself. I’ll take the stuffing out of my sofa cushions and wear them before I’ll buy another article of clothing largM’ than a 10.1 stORjed "watch ing” what went into my mouth and began counting. After 1300 calaries are consumed. I’m back to slosh ing. I’ve added another two hours a week of workouts vrith Channel 5’s Donna Gregory. She is one who is tough to keep up with, but I could have sworn that I saw a flicker of compassion in her eye the other day when she looked into my reddish purple face with white lips...until she nonchalantly asked, "Can you stay and work out another 15 minutes?" Panicked that I wouldn’t even last another two minutes, I felt my Adam’s apple slip down into my left kneec^. When we finished, I began to hallucinate that everyone around us saw me as the coyote and her as the roadrunner. 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For four years, owmers Wayne and Craig Madsen have been offering their neighbors expert advice in a friendly, comfortable showroom atmosphere. Each car they sell has passed a rigorous bumper-to-bumper inspection to ensure ultimate quality We invite you to join the more than 500 satisfied Madsen customers in the pride of Mercedes-Benz ownership. Take the short trip to Madsen Motor Company soon and bring home the best the world has to offer. (ID! MADSEN MOTOR COMPANY 902 E. Chatham St. • Cary • NC • 27511 • (919) 481-0600

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