I actually wrote a portion of today's piece while sitting, waiting, at a wooden desk in the Edgar Centre at 9am yesterday. Yes, UMAT. The Medical Admissions Test?
Yes, the very same. (Oh, it's a long story; far longer luckily for you than this column could bear.) I was thinking about the topic of laziness, recently inspired by the affronting "study" results that deemed "Kiwis among laziest in the world". Laziness, according to the survey, describes one's lack of physical activity. Meanwhile, by quarter past, I was full of an altogether alternative form of laziness ... a head sinking, eyes to the sky, can't-be-bothered attitude.
During recent international travel, upon meeting people, I found myself bombarded with questions about our so-called national sport. I tried to assert myself as an exception to the stereotype, rather than unravel our worldly reputation in their eyes: Do you play rugby?
No, no way. Lots of people do, though. Do you enjoy watching rugby?
No, not at all. Oh, unless while dressed up at the Sevens, of course. My lack of general knowledge was nigh embarrassing, and my blatant apathy towards the subject quickly ceased all sporting conversations. Am I a bad Kiwi?
Although we're (apparently) infamous as footy fanatics, perhaps on some levels, our sporting reputation far exceeds us. The aforementioned article, initially published in The Lancet, that our levels of physical activity are embarrassingly meagre, ranked us 27th of 122 countries on a scale of "laziness".
Admittedly, I haven't read the entire original study, but its intimations seem rather insubstantial. After all, our country is a fitness playground; sublime mountain ranges, beautiful parks and lakes ... who could resist the enticement of our great outdoors?
Surely the stats have been crossed, right?
Or perhaps you're all too humble to declare your true athleticism.
Furthermore, what the pop psychology is meant by "laziness", anyway?
Interestingly, according to public comments, a common excuse for missing the "five 30-minute sessions of moderate activity a week" was "busyness".
How (paradoxically) intriguing.
Laziness/"idleness" in the context of Dr Samuel Johnson's Idler periodicals is regarded as a positive attribute: "Every man is, or hopes to be, an Idler"; "Idlers always found to associate in Peace, and he who is most famed for doing Nothing is glad to meet another as idle as himself".
The definition of laziness in this connotes something more emotional than reported frequency of exercise. For the paper's purpose, it's an attention-grabbing title, certainly, but perhaps a misuse of the term. The article's offensiveness lies in its suggestions of ineffectual tendencies; a more all-encompassing uselessness ...such as my reluctance to engage with this morning's assessment.
Undoubtedly, it's an inflammatory statement to make about a country with a pre-existing, geographically induced, inferiority complex.
Annoyingly, my scribblings were removed at the end of the exam, along with all other papers. Undoubtedly they're lost forever within the system of computer-marked, multi-choice answers. It's fitting, really, considering their birth from a lazy state of mind. Products of idleness?
Problem solved.
• Katie Kenny studies English at the University of Otago.
