A couple of weeks ago, I was sitting in the Pipe Dream office at our weekly meeting. We were critiquing a different writer’s column, in terms of both substance and style, as we do each week. One column caught my eye.

The columnist had written about the long-term health effects that come with just sitting around all day, such as gaining weight, increasing risk of heart disease, etc.

The column made me subconsciously stand up as I read it. But it also made me think about something else. It made me think about the leading cause of excess weight, at least among college students: school work.

Papers, projects, tests, quizzes, homework, presentations and reading — they all involve a lot of sitting around. And they’re the reason I (and I’m sure many of you) signed up for a gym class this semester, aside from the fact it’s required. Most of us simply don’t have the time in our day to exercise, so the gym is the next best thing.

I was, however, at a loss for words when I had to buy a textbook for my gym class.

I’m going to repeat that — a textbook for a gym class.

Not only do we have to read almost 20 chapters on the biochemical machinations of the human body in agonizing detail, but also we have exams and assignments that require sitting in front of a computer, entering data about how to lead healthier lives. News flash: If I wanted to read about ATP or actin-myosin fibrils, I would have been a bio-chem major.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think all written assignments for gym classes are unreasonable. For example, having a journal (or some kind of spreadsheet) to keep track of your progress and overall health throughout the semester is a good idea. However, sitting around reading and stressing about exams is what our other four classes are for. Instead, we should be encouraged to use any spare moment we can find to exercise.

When you think about it, as a country, we don’t make things anymore. We don’t make quality cars, decent electronics or anything of value, really. So we instead churn out things that require little to no physical or mental strain and, in some cases, make us fatter as a nation. Things like reality TV shows, movies and, of course, canned bacon ranch cheese dip — no, I’m not kidding.

The other day I was in the dining hall and they were serving meatloaf stacker. It’s basically tufts of “meatloaf,” ice cream-sized scoops of mashed potatoes, clumps of shredded cheese and gravy all mixed together in a bowl. Or as I call it, “death by Sodexo.”

I didn’t order the stacker — I got a custom-made salad instead — but I was tempted to ask the dining hall workers if it came with a cardiologist’s number. It is against this backdrop of canned cholesterol and overwhelming workloads that sitting around reading for a gym class is beyond ridiculous.

I don’t know who came up with this concept. Maybe it was the same geniuses in Albany who raised our tuition to compensate for their mathematical shortcomings. Or maybe it was the same person who put the sign “BU: Healthy Body and Mind” next to the bacon cheeseburgers and sausage pizza in the dining halls. Regardless, putting textbooks in physical fitness classes is contradictory. And the person who decided this was a good idea is an idiot.