Wednesday, August 20, 2014

Let's Try This Again: Week 1 of Yet Another Exercise Experiment

Every January and beginning of summer is marked by the media onslaught of nineteen million ways to drop those pounds. The gym in the beginning of the year is packed with people proclaiming resolutions to get fit. Come warmer weather, swarms of people are signing up for cleanses and swimsuit challenges as the impending doom of shore weather draws near.

Here I am, deep into summer, writing a piece about getting in shape. The pumpkin beers are already out for goodness sakes (though an abomination)!

No time like the present? Sure. Or whatever.

I have certainly never been athletically-inclined. In fifth grade, I signed up for JV basketball, and when the coach saw me and found out that I was only in fifth grade, he was practically glowing with joy. I am around five foot eight and have been since about that time. While I am no giant now, I certainly was then in comparison to my classmates. He quickly learned, unfortunately, that my height had been gained in a very short period of time, and all-limbs-me had the coordination of a drunk giraffe. I continued with soccer through middle school, which worked out better than basketball, but I was still no natural. I always swam anytime I had access to a pool, and that was probably my strongest physical activity. I had the advantage of a very high metabolism and never really had to workout to keep trim.

How Rosalita feels about exercising.

However, as my mom always cautioned ("You know, I had a metabolism like you once upon a time..."), my body stopped burning through food at an obscene pace. I have a very close and personal relationship with food, and dieting is just out of the question. I. Love. Food. Once you learn to make a BĂ©arnaise  sauce, you can't just never make a BĂ©arnaise sauce again. Not that I eat unhealthy all the time—I make plenty of good food choices and being a vegetarian for many years previously taught me a lot about nutrition and whatnot, but I wasn't ever going to measure my food (except for a recipe!), count calories everyday, or give up butter or pasta ever (ha!).