RepMan

A disruptive technology for the body

Kangoo will be to Zumba what Amazon was to Borders: a disruptive technology.

In case you're not familiar with disruptive technology, the term was first coined by Clayton Christianson, a Harvard professor who penned the best-selling business book entitled, 'The Innovator's Dilemma'. In it, he described not only how business models such as Amazon's were disrupting the status quo, but also what executives could do to ensure their organizations weren't prone to being Amazoned (I know all this because we publicized the book. Thank you very much).

At any rate, I know a disruptive technology when I see one and Kangoo is the real deal. All it lacks is an aggressive marketing campaign.

Kangoo already possesses a brilliant role model in Mario Godiva.

I've worked with Mario, and one of his top associates, Eric Daniels ([email protected]). Together, they've completely disrupted my prior training regimen, and the way in which I think about wellness.

Mario's led Kangoo dance and fitness classes as well as Kangoo runs with many of my fellow employees at Peppercom. And, Eric's working with some of my associates on their overall wellness programs.

In my case, I've literally stopped using sneakers to run long distance. I now do it in Kangoos. And, the training by Mario and Eric provides a post workout high that rivals the very best laughing gas in the world (I know my way around the dentist's chair). 

But, here's why Kangoo will disrupt Zumba and other FOD's (fads of the day). Kangoo was originally designed to help people recover from back and knee injuries. The rebounding/running boots reduce 80 percent of the pressure on one's knees and lower back while simultaneously engaging the core.

It's an amazing balancing act that has captivated kids from eight to 80. I say again, kids from eight to 80.

Kangoo is both intense and a blast. And, unlike Zumba, there's no post workout joint pain. And, there my friends, is the rub. One gets a high without any residual pain. That's disruptive.

I was running five miles in my Kangoo boots just this morning. As I rounded a corner, a guy yelled out, 'Hey, isn't that cheating?' I smiled and said, 'If it is, then I'm the Lance Armstrong of the hood because I love cheating in my Kangoo boots.'

Try them. You'll like them.

A Fit Reputation

Peppercommer and Stand-Up Executive Deb Brown interviews fitness expert and International Kangoo Master Trainer Mario Godiva about the correlation between being fit and successful in your job.

How does being fit help your personal image and reputation at work?

When people are fit, they’re more energetic, more motivated, and have a confidence about them.  They’re generally more productive, handle stress well, and other people admire them.  Studies have shown that when employees are fit and attractive, they are usually more successful and paid more.  But, it’s not just because they look fit.  A lot of it is because of the effects of exercise:  mood, energy, motivation, and productivity. 

What do you say to people who say they just don’t have the time to exercise?

Anyone who tells me that they are too busy to work out, I say “You know what? There is always someone busier than you who exercises and eats healthy. Don’t make excuses, make the time.”  If you aren’t responsible enough to take care of your own personal health and wellbeing and make it a priority, how can you be responsible enough to take care of anything else and be efficient and excel at your job? Instead of talking to your friend for an hour, you can work out for an hour. It’s all about prioritizing.

Why don’t bosses encourage exercise?  What’s the barrier?

The barrier is cost.  It’s expensive to eat healthy.  It’s a lot cheaper to order pizza.  Some companies are good about it and provide a gym membership.  Those companies are few and far between.  Companies are looking to cut.  The last thing they want to do is spend more money.

Can exercise make a difference in how bosses manage employees?

Absolutely.  Exercise affects your mood. Exercise produces endorphins, which help to relieve stress.  They’re induced by exercise as well as by laughing.  Employees who are mean are the ones who don’t experience those endorphins. If they exercised enough, they would be happier, calmer.  They don’t know how to take care of their stress, so they take it out on others.  If they’re exercising, they’d be better at handling that stress. 

When you do corporate training, are most employees fit or not fit?

It depends on the company.  There’s usually a small subculture that is fit.  Unfortunately, at some companies, I’ve met with people who’ve gained weight because of working at the company. They may have gained 10, 15, 20 pounds because of the stress. And, that’s more of a common theme that I see. They get a new job and then gain weight because of the stress that accompanies the job, or they’re sitting all day, or they’re eating the unhealthy food in the cafeteria.  It’s a very sad thing to hear.  

Can being fit help you move up the corporate ladder?

Yes. You become more visible, you stand out more.  You’re the calm one, you’re the one handling stress.  It’s the feeling that exercise gives you that makes you more successful.

 

This can't be good news for the Barcalounger

Doctors and fitness experts have long espoused the benefits of an active lifestyle. But, as the statistics bear out, Americans have not only turned a deaf ear to the warnings, the number of obese, sedentary slugs has only grown.

Now comes a new study that shows more than 90,000 new cancer cases a year may be due to physical inactivity and prolonged periods of sitting. The American Institute for Cancer Research cites some 49,000 cases of breast cancer and 43,000 of colon cancer. That's enough people to fill the Rose Bowl!

The anti-sedentary news can't be good news for marketers who enable such inactivity. How should Barcalounger, for example, respond? Do they take the route of Big Tobacco and deny, deny, deny?

     - “The AICR study adds nothing new to the dialogue. We remain committed to providing the softest, most comfortable lounging experience possible for inert Americans.”

Or, do they go on the offensive and launch an attack ad against fitness and wellness?

     - “Who needs activity? Even triathletes die sooner or later. Kick back and ease your way through a shortened lifespan with our new, extra padded Barcalounger Deluxe (which comes equipped with fold-away trays, a built-in fridge AND airtight storage areas for those double cheeseburgers and fries you want to keep super fresh for the second half kick-off!).”

I've often wondered how I'd handle an offer to represent a product that either causes illness (i.e. tobacco) or enables obesity and inactivity (i.e. lounge chairs). The latter is obviously a no-brainer since it can be positioned as a lifestyle accessory for the active or inactive consumer.

But, representing Big Tobacco or the National Rifle Association would present a huge ethical problem for this blogger. I simply don't buy into the logic of PR firms who say they represent these merchants of death because “…every business deserves a right to tell its side of the story.” And, I also don't buy into the NRA's rant about Second Amendment rights and their mantra that 'Guns don't kill people. People kill people.' Yeah, sure. And, a Big Mac with cheese doesn't harden the arteries either. That's caused by an individual's DNA. Not.

In any event, I'll be interested in reading how, if at all, the enablers respond to the new statistics about the dangers of a sedentary life and sitting for a prolonged period of time. As for me, I've never been able to sit still, so the whole thing is a non-issue. As a matter of fact, I think I'll head to the gym right now.

And smoking cigarettes is good for your health

Ronald McDonald must be smiling from ear to maniacal ear after reading a truly bizarre new  report from the York University School of Kinesiology & Health Science.

In the York study, assistant professor Jennifer L. Kuk says obese people who are otherwise healthy live just as long as their slim counterparts. And, get this, Kuk's study showed otherwise healthy obese people are even LESS likely than lean people to die of cardiovascular disease! Who funded this research, White Castle?

Dr. Kuk hypothesized that “…trying and failing to lose weight may be more detrimental than simply staying at an elevated body weight and engaging in a healthy lifestyle that includes physical activity and a balanced diet with plenty of fruits and vegetables.”

Now, hold on there, partner. If an obese person engages in a healthy lifestyle that includes physical activity and a balanced diet with plenty of fruits and vegetables, he'd no longer be an obese person! What am I missing here?

I don't buy Kuk's premise for one minute (or calorie, for that matter). In fact, I'd point her to an equally obtuse, just-released study from a slightly better known institution: Yale University's School of Medicine.

In that study, Yale's Dr. David L. Katz determined that people who watch six hours of television a day lose a full five years off their life. Why? Surprisingly, it's not the horrific programming. Instead, says Katz, a couch potato's lifestyle leads to “…a greater risk for obesity and the chronic diseases it tends to anticipate, notably diabetes, heart disease and cancer.” Put that in your Whopper with extra cheese and smoke it, Dr. Kuk.

Still, if Kuk can find a silver lining in obesity, I have to believe she'll be swamped with corporate funding offers from such merchants of death as R.J. Reynolds. I could see them paying her a cool (Kool?) mil to say smoking two packs of cigarettes a day actually improves one's heart and lung functions. And, I wouldn't be surprised to see Dos Equis underwrite a Kuk study that says downing a case of their swill once a week will enhance liver functions.

The sky's the limit for a woman who I'd label as the mad professor of death.

But, hey, if things don't work out for you at York University, Dr. Kuk, I know a great, new place for you to settle down: Evansville, Indiana. I'll bet the town fathers would welcome you with open arms and expanded waistlines. Heck, they'd probably even insist on building the "Jennifer L. Kuk Center for the Advancement of Obesity."

And a tip o' RepMan's hat to Sir Edward Aloysius Moed and Greg Schmalz for this idea.

Carpe diem, Evansville

Evansville, Indiana, was just named America's fattest city. 

According to the survey, 37.8 percent of Evansville's population is obese. That's more than one in three people. Absorb that shocker for a moment: more than one in three!

That means the starting line-up for every Evansville high school basketball team has two obese members. So much for the fast break. It also means three members of every Evansville Little League team probably can't go from first to third on a hit-and-run. Maybe they should call it a hit-and-waddle, instead? And forget about the city's football wide receivers running the fly pattern. Maybe they rename it the slug?

I'm joking, but Evansville's obesity is a sad, sick joke. And, since the odds are good that residents aren't going to be giving up their Big Macs and supersized fries anytime soon, why not embrace a huge marketing opportunity?

For starters, I'd change the city's nickname to Obeseville, USA. I'd advertise plus-sized friendly theme parks, movie theatres and public transportation. And, since weight-challenged folks are also supposed to be jolly, why not host a comedy festival? And, I'd do away with any and all overt signs of fitness or wellness (i.e. cover over hiking, jogging and bicycle trails, close down health clubs, etc.).

I think Evansville has a chance to do something very special here. It can simultaneously become synonymous with heft AND, a la Xerox and Google, become a verb ("You Evansvilling me with that extra cheese?”).

City fathers should challenge local chefs to come up with a signature cheeseburger to mark their accomplishment. I'd call it the 37 Special. The branding opportunities are as limitless as the waistlines are large.

Here's one final thought: Evansville should challenge residents of America's fittest city, Boulder, Colorado, (where a mere 12.9 percent of the population is obese). They should engage in a multi-event competition that would favor neither town but still capture the imagination of a recession-weary populace (i.e. A 26.2 marathon followed by a Nathan's Famous type hot dog eating contest). How cool would it be to see which city would come out on top? Of course, there's an excellent chance that one in every three Evansville competitors might keel over from a massive heart attack during even the most sedentary event but, hey, what better way to die than in the service of one's home town?

So, don't hide your collective heads in shame, Evansville. Take a deep breath, let out that 48-inch belt a little more and embrace what you, and you alone can own: the unrivaled claim to being America's fattest city!

Carpe diem, Evansville. Carpe diem.

Corporate Social Irresponsibility: PR's next BIG thing

What do brands such as 7-11, Armour and Hooters have in common? They all sponsor competitive binge-eating contests. In case you've somehow missed it, competitive binge eating is the next new thing. Nathan's Famous Hot Dogs pioneered the caloriefest and now lots of other brands are following suit (and setting a horrific example for a nation already beset by obesity and weight-related illnesses).

All of which spells opportunity for some enterprising public relations entrepreneur. In fact, I'll bet a quarter pounder with cheese that there's some latter-day, bizarro world version of Carol Cone just salivating over the revenue potential. (Note: Carol Cone is widely recognized in PR circles for pioneering cause marketing and corporate social responsibility programs. Today, nearly every organization purports to 'do good' and some actually do.)

But, back to the business development opportunity. This past July 4th weekend, Joey 'The Jaws' Chestnut won his fifth consecutive Nathan's hot dog eating contest at Coney Island by consuming 62 dogs in 10 minutes (@ 397 calories per frank, Jaws inhaled some 24,614 calories in 600 seconds. I gag just looking at those numbers).

I'm also thrilled to report that Sonya Thomas won Nathan's first-ever women's competition by scarfing down 40 dogs in the same 10 minutes. I say thrilled because now women can't point to this obscenity as yet another example of 'stupid guy things.'

By winning their respective competitions, Chestnut and Thomas automatically become members of the Major League Eating Hall of Fame. For you non-foodies, MLE is the official governing body of binge eating and includes such other superstar athletes as:

- Don Lerman, who holds a world's record for consuming SIX POUNDS of baked beans in one minute and 48 seconds (note to self: do NOT stand downwind of Big Don).

- Cookie Jarvis, who shoveled down six and two-thirds pounds of linguini at one sitting (and, I'll bet she remained seated for some time afterwards. I wouldn't be able to move for a week).

- Takeru Kobayoshi, who sucked down 57 cow brains in 15 minutes (something tells me Kobayoshi-san didn't have much category competition, though. "The cow brain-eating contest? Hell no. I'm here to throw back some bratwurst.").

A cursory glance at the World Eating League's website reveals such major sponsors as Heinz and Pepto-Bismol. Heinz ketchup and mustard has to be the K-Y Jelly of binge-eating. I can't believe anyone can taste anything after, say, the 41st dog has inched its way past the trachea. It's all about lubrication at that point.

Pepto's marketing spend is a no-brainer. But where are Tums, Immodium and, of course, Scott Tissue?

And, how, exactly do the makers of Heinz and Pepto explain their sponsorships in annual reports? "In another area of cause marketing, Your Company once again contributed $1 million to sponsor the World Eating League. Management and directors alike believe obesity is not a problem but, rather, an opportunity that will provide immediate shareholder growth (and girth)."

I jest of course. These companies should be ashamed of themselves. So, too, should the competitors, who actually believe they're athletes. I always thought athletes burned calories, not consumed them.

The real losers though, as always, are our nation's kids. I can just picture 12-year-old, 200-pound Johnny or Sally Ann  giving up on their fitness program and opting instead to pursue a career as a World Eating Champion. "Hey mom and dad! I finally know what I want to be when I grow up. The king of the hot dog eating universe!"

But, enough already with French Fries finger pointing and Buffalo wing bashing, I have a business plan to write and some misbehaving brands to pitch. I think Corporate Social Irresponsibility is PR's next BIG thing (and, what a great double entendre the service offering's initials will make. "CSI? You betcha! In fact, we have an entire division devoted to it.").

And a tip o' the toque to Valerie "the Foodie" Di Maria for this suggestion.

Golden Years

I'm 57 today. That's old. It sounds old and it looks old. As a matter of fact, 57 only looks good on  the label of a Heinz's ketchup bottle.

Turning 57 is an actuarial wake-up call. There's no denying that, statistically speaking, I'm much closer to the end than the beginning. But, to add insult to injury, there are lots of other signs that Father Time is breathing down my neck. To wit:

- An attractive young lady in a bar smiles at me, walks up and whispers in my ear, 'Excuse me sir. But is anyone using that stool next to you? We'd like to borrow it." (Note: sir = elderly).
- A friend shows my photo to her friend who responds by saying, “My, he's rather distinguished looking, isn't he?” (Note: distinguished looking = dissipated. Sean Connery is distinguished looking. I do NOT want to be called distinguished looking.).
- An otherwise intelligent intern tells me she's never heard of a DeLorean or the 'Back to the Future' movies. (Note: it's no fun to be surrounded by a whole new generation of employees who are clueless about ANYTHING that occurred before 1990).

That carnage aside, I'm absolutely loving 57. In fact, I think I've crammed more living in the past five years than I had in the previous 52.

'They' say experience is one advantage that comes with aging. But, they rarely mention another less obvious, but more important, value-add: freedom.

I'm now totally free to take risks and try things that would have been unthinkable 10, 20 or even 30 years earlier. They include performing improvisation and stand-up comedy, as well as rock, ice and mountain climbing. Toss in some long-distance cycling, gyrotonic (www.bodyevolution.com) and devising brand new Peppercom service offerings and you'll have an inkling of just how free I feel at such an advanced age.

I've been blessed. But, I've also embraced risk.

In fact, I now understand what David Bowie meant when he sang in 'Golden Years': 'Don't let me hear you say life's taking you nowhere.'

There are two ways to go through life: you take life or life takes you. You're either a driver who take risks and isn't afraid to fail or you're a passenger who blames others when your dreams don't come true.

Whether you're 27, 37, 47 or 57, do yourself a favor and get behind the wheel as soon as possible. You never know. It might just end up being a mint condition DeLorean and you might just end up having the time of your life.

Make the most of your golden years. They'll be over before you know it.

Good-bye to you

Ever happen to hear an old song that not only evokes a frozen moment in time, but also perfectly expresses your current feelings about a person, place or thing? No? Well, I have.

It just happened this past Saturday as I was working out in the gym at our corporate apartment. Having forgotten my trusty iPod, I was forced to listen to the gym's music, which was blasting out a VH1 'Remembering the '80s' mix. That's when I heard Patty Smyth and Scandal belt out their memorable “Good-bye To You”.

 

Note: In addition to being head-over-heels in love with the then 25-year-old Smyth (not to be confused with the cadaverous Patti Smith), I always loved her independent, free-wheeling interpretation of the lyrics (and thought it perfectly captured my own wayward bachelor's POV on life and love at the time).

As I listened to it again for the first time in a quarter century, though, I realized the song also nailed my current feelings for the New York Mets. (I'm neither pleased nor embarrassed to say I've yet to watch a single half-inning of Mets baseball this entire season. They bore me.) And, that's what the song's lyrics capture:

These last few weeks (years)of holding on, the days are dull, the nights are long, guess it's better to say, good-bye to you

I've said good-bye to the Mets once before— right after they traded away Tom Seaver and before they began building the great '86 championship team.

I think it's ok to walk away from a person, place or thing if, like the Mets, they're causing too much psychic or physical damage. I've abandoned other 'things', including:

- All American-made cars
- Devil Dogs (after 30 years, I still consider myself a recovering Devil Dogaholic)
- The Roman Catholic faith
- TV sitcoms (minus 'Curb', 'Seinfeld' and 'The Office')
- TV reality shows (minus 'Mob Wives' 'I Shouldn't Be Alive' and 'Intervention')
- Attending any event in the Meadowlands (traffic, noise and hooliganism trump any upsides)
- Working for a holding company PR firm (life's far too short to have to deal with the internal politics, bureaucracy and shark-infested waters).

I may say hello to the Mets sometime in the future. I have before.

In fact, I imagine they'll one day reach out to me with an unexpected e-mail entitled, “Hi, do you remember me?” And, like a jilted lover, I'll respond tentatively with a, “Um, yes, I remember. You broke my heart.” And, the Mets will suggest getting together again over a drink. And, sucker that I am, I'll agree. And, then I'll be hooked.

But until then, I'll heed Patty Smyth's final lyrics and tell the Mets, “Good-bye baby. So long darling. Good-bye to you!”

 

Another day, another summit

Some people prefer to lounge on a Caribbean beach. Others play the tables in Vegas. Me? I climb mountains. And, I do it with my best friend, Chris, who doubles as my son.

This past week, we joined a few other good friends to attempt Colorado's formidable, 14,197 ft. Mt. Princeton.

We were dubious of success because, aside from the acclimatization challenges, all of Colorado's 60 something 14k'ers were buried in snow. In fact, locals told us this past winter was the worst in memory, with three times the average amount of snowfall.

So, when we arrived, we heard lots of conflicting reports, such as:

- “There's at least eight feet of snow on top of every 14k'er.”
- “The small stream you see on your way up will be a raging river on your way down.” (Note: as a notoriously weak swimmer, I envisioned myself being dragged under a class five rapid as I struggled for air.)
- “Everything north of Buena Vista (our base) is buried, but you just might find something passable due south.”

It wasn't until we happened on a seasoned local guide by the name of Mike Mays that things began to look up. Mays, who knows Vern Tejas, the legendary guide who took us up Russia's Mt. Elbrus, said there were two or three 14k'ers that could be summited. His words were echoed the very next day by a clerk at the local climbing, biking and kayaking outfitter.

And so, throwing caution to the wind, we decided to give it a go. It turned out to be a brutal slog, replete with few trails, lots of huge boulders and, of course, the requisite snow. At some points, we went in right to our hips. But, the snow was stable and there weren't huge mounds of it directly above, so we continued.

In all, it took 10 hours and 30 minutes to make it to the top and back. But, it was well worth it. In fact, I highly recommend a week of climbing, cycling and running at high altitude as a superb remedy to the stresses of everyday life.

I understand why most people prefer sucking down margaritas in Cancun or playing the roulette wheel at the Mandalay Bay. Me? I'll just keep climbing and smiling.

We need the Navy Seals to take down the bin Laden of Burgers

Some 550 leading health care professionals and organizations have signed their names to a  full-page advertisement running today in six national newspapers. It's a call to action pleading with McDonald's to stop its sleazy, subversive marketing to kids and to retire their damnable corporate icon, Ronald McDonald.

Fuggedaboutit! The ad won't work because McDonald's won't stop marketing to kids. They can't. The impact on future sales would be too horrible to contemplate. (Could you imagine life without plus-sized families wolfing down Big Macs five times a week? How positively un-American.)

Instead, America's health groups should get serious, mobilize their monies, marshal their troops, and declare war on McDonald's. And, public enemy number one of what I'm calling 'Operation: Waistline' should be Ronald McDonald himself.

In my mind, Ronald's the bin Laden of Burgers, the Pol Pot of Poor Diets and the Hitler of Healthy Living.

And, I'd engage the same elite Seal 6 team that took out bin Laden in his Abbottabad compound for this surgical strike. Why not? They've got a proven plan and are ready to roll.

I'd have the Seals initiate a midnight raid on Mickey D's Oakbrook, Illinois, headquarters. I'll bet they'd catch Ronald watching the tube (hopefully nothing worse than PG-13 content). I picture him lying in bed, wearing just his red overalls. He'll have an arm draped around one or more of his morbidly obese wives while puffing on a cigarette and scarfing down some fries and a chocolate shake.

As was the case with bin Laden, I'd tell the Seals to take him down ASAP. Who knows what a cornered corporate icon might do in a moment of desperation? Waste him. Plus, no one wants Ronald McDonald alive and put on trial. The guy's a real charmer and that red and yellow costume might just sway a jurist or two. No, I'd tell the Seals to put one bullet just above Ronald's eye.

Then, let's bury him in an undisclosed location in Lake Michigan. We don't want McDonald's fanatics making a shrine out of Ronald's final resting spot.

The Mob likes to say if you 'cut off the head, the body will die.' I think health care professionals need to adopt the same strategy with McDonald's. Whack Ronald and watch our nation's obesity epidemic (and waistlines) slowly, but surely, contract.

One caveat to the Seals, though. Do yourselves a public relations favor and don't adopt an American Indian code word such as Geronimo for Ronald. There's no need to undermine the results by alienating an important minority.

So, let's get to work. Let's infiltrate Ronald's inner circle, use some advanced terror techniques to determine his daily habits, get some spy satellites to focus their cameras on his compound and get this deed done. If Obama doesn't want to issue the final execute command, I will.

Ronald McDonald must die if America is to live. It's go time!!!!