[What are you going to do? Actually go to the gym?]
Well, this is shocking. On average Americans have sixty whole bad days a year. That’s like five a month, isn’t it? That seems like a sensible number actually. Reasons for having a bad day include enduring stress at work, not getting enough sleep, missing out on a hot shower, and, wait for it, suffering the horror of uncooperative hair, as in A Bad Hair Day. That one should have gone first. Ask me how I know. I mean, actually, please don’t ask me, unless you want me to start shouting and waving my arms.
The trouble is, the jerks who ran this study (and they must be the same ones who discovered that people who move their legs faster arrive at their intended destinations sooner) correlated improvement of a bad day with exercise. In other words, if you’re having a bad day, you shouldn’t eat something naughty and go out for a drink to improve your foul mood. Instead you should, as they say, ‘hit the gym.’ They, whoever they are, discovered through lots of hard work, I guess–but wouldn’t you like to really see the guts of this study–that people who take some exercise are happier than those who don’t. So, they say, go workout.I find this advice specious, at best, particularly in light of this much more brilliant and helpful study proving that those who drink alcohol live longer than those who don’t. In fact, don’t bother with the exercise at all, suggest these researchers. And it’s best not to be too thin as you get older. It’s alright to be thin when you’re young, but as you age, it’s better to have a little padding. I hope that they don’t get around to investigating exactly how many extra pounds would be ok. Leave well enough alone is what I say.
Truly, what does it take to be the kind of scientist who works out this kind of study? And where is that jarring article from awhile ago, the one that discovered that almost none of the sort of research that goes into these sorts of studies is actually reproducible. A researcher will get an idea, make up some experiments, gather a bunch of data, write a paper, and rush Ron write a snazzy headline. Sometime later someone will come along and try to see if it can be replicated, and after much furrowing of the brow, discover that it was all a one time fluke.
Not that I’d ever want to be caught arguing with Science. But now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go work on my cheese addiction. Toddle pip.