Running

I don’t know why I do it. Run, I mean. I used to be so good at it: In seventh grade, my mile was around 8 minutes and I was the fastest girl in our class. Needless to say, those days are long gone. Anyways, I woke up this morning (and yes, this time it actually was morning) and decided to go for a run, since all the ice cream I ate for dessert last night made me worry my heart was going to explode without warning. So laced up my sneakers and set out through the various neighborhood streets surrounding mine. I eventually looped my way back home and dragged my wiped-out body into the shower.

(If you couldn’t tell, I’m not the greatest fan of working out.)

Stupid exercise, I thought to myself as the soothing streams of water drained away the muscle cramps, I don’t see how people actually enjoy it. I understand the appeal of a pickup game of driveway hoops or a neighborhood softball game, but exerting yourself on a metal contraption that looks more like a death trap than a fat burner? Beats me. I may hate the gym, but I still go. Or at least I did. I knew I had no excuse not to back when I lived a mere 90-second walk from the campus gym. But ever since I moved across campus my gym attendance took a nosedive. Hey, don’t blame me; our campus is large and hilly and I had an internship and classes to balance. I had laundry to do and dinner to make. And did I mention all the hills?

The doctor laughed at me when I told her this at my annual checkup. “Trust me,” she said, “it doesn’t get any easier in the future, so you better learn to make time for exercise.” Okay fine, so let’s say I make time for it. I still hate it. It just so, well, painfully boring. Listening to my ipod is not enough to occupy my mind while on the elliptical or the treadmill (which by the way I eternally despise,) and all that bobbing up and down doesn’t let me read properly. I suppose T.V. would work, but the campus gym doesn’t have any in the cardio room. Adding to my exercise complaints, I generally overexert myself and keep running faster and faster long after my legs are screaming at me to stop, which may not necessarily be the best approach to take while working out.

The treadmill always left me feeling like a gerbil, trapped and going nowhere, so I tried running on the track. However, running in circles didn’t necessarily do much to convince me I was actually going somewhere, so I decided to give running outside a shot. Yeah, so far I’ve tried that twice and hated it both times. Looks like I’ll just have to figure out a new, more complicated way to burn calories (and give up on that dream of running a marathon.) (Hah, as if I ever actually thought I could run one in the first place.)