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For a long time I was anti-exercise. Don't get me wrong; I knew that exercise is good and that it aids in losing weight and being healthy. But all that mumbo jumbo about exercise making one happy, making on feel better about herself? Please. For many years the idea of exercise disgusted me. How could anyone find joy in using a cardio macine or by lifiting weights was beyond me. They very thought bored me. But with the dawning of a new year I found myself realizing that that I am not getting any younger, and that if I am ever to get into shape, now is the time. So, I joined a gym. I thought perhaps having $50.00 taken from me every month might just be the motivation I needed to get moving. Friends, my first few days at the gym were horrendous. I didn't want to be there. I got winded on the cardio machines and the sight of myself reflected in all of those mirrors made me feel ill. For reasons unknown to me, I stuck with it. It has now been just over a month, and I'm still going. Yesterday I spent one hour on the elliptical machine. I set it to an interval incline with a resistance level of four. I burned 829 calories. In the middle of the work out, covered head to toe in sweat, I realized that I loved it. I loved every second of it. I wasn't even kidding myself. I actually enjoyed it. For the past week or so, rather than dreading my trip to the gym, I have craved it. I have become one of those people. And all that hoo-ha about exercise putting you in a better mood and giving you more energy and making you happy? It's all true. Ack! There is a problem with my new found energy, though. My body is having trouble sitting still. Last night I had a most excellent plan to watch That 70's Show, American Idol, and Celebrity Mole. That is three solid hours of television bliss, and given my television watching history, it's not excessive. I made it through That 70's Show, but ten minutes into American Idol I was unable to sit on the couch. I wandered the living room, into the kitchen, back to the living room. I watched the rest of the show between two televisions as I wandered around. Same thing with Celebrity Mole. And it wasn't my mind that wouldn't cooperate. My mind is quite fond of vegging in front of mindless fluff. My body, however, seems to be leading a revolution of sorts. It simply would not stand for me to just lay around for hours. If this trend continues, I am in trouble. What will become of my X-Files and Friends marathons? Dear God, will I still be capable of watching an entire DVD of The Sopranos at one sitting? This is what exercise has done to me. It's enough to make me consider quitting the gym. Seriously. No, not seriously. Maybe soon my body will adjust to the exercise and calm down. Then life will return to normal, and I can once again be a TV whore.
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