I’ve been saying it for years. Ever since we had to run the mile every year in grade school and I was always one of the last, coming in at a whopping 13 minute mile, I decided I’m just not a runner. In fact, I hate exercise. Period. I’ve noticed that when I tell people this, they tend to try to find excuses for me.
Excuse #1) It’s the smoking, makes it hard to run.
I can tell you right now, although it’s hard to believe, I didn’t smoke when I was 11, and I still hated it then.
Excuse #2) You just have to build up to it.
Um, no, I’ve tried that, and there’s no getting past 30 seconds straight of running before I feel like I’m going to pass out.
Excuse #3) It’s all the junk that you eat, too many carbs make you tired and unmotivated.
No, I’ve gotten up the motivation to get my little butt on the treadmill, even after eating deep fried bacon, wrapped in more bacon, and deep fried again in bacon fat, and I still hate it.
I accept it, I will never like to exercise.
The reason this is in my wedding blog is because I had one of those moments of inspiration of getting fit about a month ago. I’ll admit, I don’t need to lose any weight, but I started thinking about getting toned up if I’m going to be prancing around in a bathing suit for 2 weeks on a beach. I haven’t worn just a bathing suit in probably 2 years and I started getting a little worried about what the people walking behind me would be looking at.
I was determined. I made Scott rearrange the guest bedroom so I would have easy access to my treadmill. The treadmill that weighs as much as my car. The treadmill that I made him carry down 2 flights and back up 2 flights of stairs when we moved in together. The same treadmill that I swore to him at the time I would use but has been collecting dust for the past 13 months.
I hopped on that night. I power-walked on an incline for a mile and a half, I lifted my weights and I did crunches like nobody’s business. I continued my regime for a solid 2 weeks and worked my way up to farther distances, longer workouts, steeper inclines and faster walks. I can’t lie, I love the workout high when I’m finished, but I still, and will forever, hate the process of getting there. And let’s just say, that workout binge didn’t last long.
Fast forward to a month later, and I’m back in the mindset that although people will be walking behind me while my un-toned thighs and butt are frolicking in the sand, I honestly don’t care. I’ve never been vain and aside from our families and friends, I’ll never see any of those people again. My motto has always been that if someone doesn’t like what they see, oh well, because for every person that doesn’t, there’s a Scott that does. He’s a fan of mine, and I’m a big fan of his. He never makes me feel less than beautiful and I truly adore him for that.