Thursday, December 6, 2012

Exercise. A word.

Actually, several words.

One... I hate cardio.

Oh, don't get me wrong, I like to go for walks on a nice day, and do jumping jacks once in a while when I'm wearing a particularly strong bra, but as exercise? Nope. Noooope.

You will not find me in a jazzercise class, or jumping around on a raised platform (do you KNOW how dangerous those things are? People could die.) I tried the aerobics thing when I was in high school. I really did. Everyday for months I would jump around in my living room listening to those peppy instructors on my VHS saying things like 'If you don't have any energy, please, Take Some Of Ours! YAY!'

Noooope. I would have to stop the tape, and laugh. Because I'm sorry, that is just not happening.

You will not find me jogging. I do NOT jog. You know what jogging does? It makes my legs BIGGER. I'm serious, I do not lose weight jogging, I gain. I gain massive thunder legs that would make a Greek god proud. Not me. No thank you.

In University, I joined the gym, but my drinking and studying and just generally eating way to much and hanging out with friends living life, got in the way of being physically fit. The bikes made my butt hurt. The stair master made my knees ache, and the elliptical machine? Don't get me started on the elliptical machine. If I wanted to cross country ski I would be outside cross country skiing.

I even tried aerobics classes. But I found myself staring at the barr mirror wondering who the big bear of a girl in last year's workout gear was only to realize it was me and I seriously needed to get out of that room.

Why would I put myself through all that? Why would anyone?

Sure, if you enjoy it, by all means, Just Do It can be your slogan. But if you hate it? How the heck are you going to be able to get your ass in gear if you dread the very seconds ticking on the clock that leads to your hated workout?

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