Sloth?
Nah, a sloth is naturally hardwired to remain stationary for most of its day/life/existence. I choose to act this way.
Bart Simpson?
Well, for the sake of this blog post, let's assume that Bart is in the middle of an existential crisis and needs to focus on achieving self-actualization instead of moving his lazy ass off the couch... Which, if you think about it, happens to be the root of said existential crisis.
I might not be sure of my identity and purpose in life, but I don't think it's the cause of my current state of unfit.
This meme whose name I've forgotten and will remain forgotten because I'm too lazy to open Google?
Ding ding ding! Jackpot.
For as long as I can remember, I've never been into exercising. I mean, it's one thing to hate weekly P.E. classes which just give an excuse for sporty people to reduce their non-sporty peers to a bunch of pathetic slackers (totally not bitter though), but it's whole new level of sedentary when you literally pant after climbing a flight of stairs.
This is me. And I can't wait for the moment when I can finally say, "That used to be me."
I won't lie by saying that my motivation for getting fit is rooted in health improvement and lowered disease risk. I'm sixteen. I'm not concerned about my health (much). I'm concerned about my weight. I'm scared of seeing prom pictures with my stomach bulging in every single one of them. I'm annoyed that clothes cling to my skin and emphasize all the lumps and bumps and flab that I want to hide.
I may be shallow and vain, but at least I won't have to ask for a bigger size whenever I try out clothes in the dressing room.
So, in line with this not-so-earth-shattering resolution of mine, I've decided to combine the two things I used to hate most: diet and exercise. For the past two weeks, I've cut down my carbohydrate intake and tried to limit my sweets to very special occasions. I've also knocked into my head again and again that finishing a workout does not qualify as a special occasion. I play badminton with my friends thrice a week, and now my mom is encouraging me to jog for an hour every morning.
And I also decided to hop on the bandwagon and try Zumba. BEST. DECISION. EVER. Even if I think I got most of the instructor's dance steps wrong, I still felt the aching burn in places I never knew were capable of burning.
I've only just begun this little training regimen of mine and like every weight-loss aspirant out there, I'm learning not to expect immediate results. Resisting the urge to hop on the weighing scale is hard, but in the end, my sanity and sleeping patterns thank me for it. I do feel tougher though. My stamina is getting better each day, too. If there's one thing I learned about exercise, it's that your body is stronger and deserves way more credit than what you give it. You aren't going to faint after running a lap. I thought I was going to, but I didn't. I was able to finish, and you know what? I felt great. Relieved. Accomplished. It was just one lap, but it was one lap more than anything I could have ever run before.
So now, here's to hoping that this sudden bout of motivation doesn't burn up too quickly and leave nothing but flickering embers in its wake.
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