Sometimes I see these smiling, dewy, vibrant girls my age out for a run or doing yoga in the park and I ask myself, how? How in God's name are these girls having a good time? They look happy! They look excited! They look energized! I just don't understand it. I often feel a tremendous sense of guilt that I am young and completely inactive. When I lose five pounds it's really not because I'm putting in any work. It's probably because I walked a little more that week, or drank more water or something strange from the cosmos came down and graced me with a gift. But really, this (motioning to my body) really doesn't require a whole lot of work to maintain.
Now, that being said I am a lucky girl in that I was raised by a mother who is a registered dietitian. That meant not having any sweets in the house, donating 80% of my trick or treating candy and never, ever, ever and sugary fruit juice. Essentially, I have been groomed from a very early age to eat well. Yes, I am a lover of pizza, big cookies and ice cream, but for the most part I eat in moderation and drink about 3 liters of water a day.
However, I think it's getting to the point where I am becoming one of those skinny fat people trainers on The Biggest Loser always talk about. I never work out but I maintain my weight and have been the same size for like ten years so I don't ever think about weight loss. I have insecurities like every woman on the face of the planet but I never have seen working out as a means to addressing those insecurities. Why you ask? Because I hate working out. I loathe it. When I see people out running on a hot day I scream from my car window, "Why?! Why are you putting yourself through that? You look miserable!" But lately, I'm starting to feel very bad for being lazy. Also, I have little to no upper body strength and if any sort so if an apocalyptic situation were to every happen, I would surely be one of those poor souls trampled or too weak to hold on to a rope or something.
So, I got a gym membership! Now, I'm not expecting miracles. I'm one of those people (probably like most) who can't even bare the thought of working out, but once I am I feel great and know it's worth it. But somehow the next day, as I'm trying to convince myself to go to the gym, I can't even remember that feeling of high I had the previous day or I convince myself that I'm crazy and it probably wasn't that good. Alas I have joined a gym though. And my sad little goal is to go three days a week. I don't know how much I will get accomplished while I'm there. Will I run? Will I bike? Will I do sit ups? Or will I go very slow on the elliptical machine and watch the latest installment of Real Housewives on the television overhead? There's no telling! But I know for certain I will never be one of those glistening, grinning, Lulu Lemon wearing cyborgs.