Rarely does the nation speak as one. But late last week, a collective ``Gimme a break'' was heard, as word of the latest exercise recommendations - an hour a day - swept the nation's couches.

In case you were too busy complaining about how busy you are to keep up with the news, the Institute of Medicine unleashed a 1,000-page report recommending, among other challenges, 60 minutes of vigorous physical activity a day to maintain cardiovascular health.

And no, sprinting to the all-you-can-eat Chinese buffet table doesn't count.

Don't get me wrong. I'd love to spend an hour at Gold's Gym next to sweaty grunting men every day for the rest of my life, but, like everyone else who's not making a music video or working as a bike messenger, I don't have the time.

I hate to blame others for my ballooning BMI, but if a few people - my boss and the well-groomed woman who sits next to me, among them - would just make a few changes, I'd be able to get in my daily hour of sweat quite easily.

How expensive would it be to replace my desk chair with Cybex equipment? That way, instead of sitting on my duff and eating doughnuts while I write, I could peddle or row and eat doughnuts while I write.

And that phone tethered to a jack under my desk? What a time-sucker that is. If I had one of those hands-free ``Madonna'' or ``Old Navy employee'' cordless headsets, I could walk briskly or ballroom dance around the office while calling sources, and thereby reduce my risk of a cardiac event.

But I don't want to put the onus completely on my employer (even though I might point out that a healthy employee is a productive employee). The Herald's not the only entity complicit in my sedentary lifestyle. TV is to blame, too, as some nights I'm virtually forced to spend hours watching people I've never heard of competing for a record contract.

Why can't the industry executives sign a pact agreeing to make TV even worse than it already is, and to syndicate only shows that stunk the first time around? (Or perhaps this has been done already.)

And it's not just big business that's keeping me from achieving perfect health. It's the little people, too. Specifically, the people who force me to read, iron and wear blush by doing so themselves - in a rather showy way, if you ask me.

Why don't we all agree to read only book reviews or author interviews - no more whole books? If no one's well-read, we all are, if you see what I mean. The time I don't waste slogging through the John Adams bio, I can devote to a vigorous set of doubles tennis.

Ditto on the personal appearance front. If my friend **** would only let herself go, I could too, and the time we both save could be spent with our Thigh Masters.

As you can see, I'm willing to do my part if I get just a little help, but even then, I'm not going to do it for free. Yes, I'll exercise, but I want a break on my health and life insurance.

And if none of my suggestions is adopted, I'm thinking of suing to have the definition of exercise rewritten to include anything that raises your heart rate - such as the stress of reading a report stating you need to get an hour of exercise a day.