Okay. I think everyone is familiar with the joke, “I love my abs so much I protected them with a layer of fat.”
I’m 30. The fat ain’t burning itself and my calorie intake is greater than what my body burns.
I decided that starting today, I’m going to try and run at least every other day, and each time, go further and/or burn more calories than the last time.
So I laced up my shoes, made a beeline for the street, warmed up a little bit, pretended to stretch a little bit, started at a brisk walk.
Now even if I don’t work out regularly, jogging shouldn’t be that hard right? I mean, I play basketball at least once a week, jogging should be a piece of cake.
After 10-15 seconds of brisk walking, I get bored and decide to go faster.
My heart starts pounding, breathing gets harder, and I’m thinking, “yeah this isn’t hard at all”.
First my thighs start burning, and I can almost hear them laughing at me. Then my calves join in, but I grit my teeth and soldier on until I feel I can’t take it anymore, pushing myself as hard as I can.
When I check the time, I’m 2 minutes 48 seconds into my run.
Now let me explain something, I love working out. I love weights, I like sports even if sports don’t like me. But I hate cardio. To me it’s… Blah. Boring. But I need to burn calories so I’ll try almost anything. I’m even giving up rice except on Sundays because Sunday is Saboten day. Ok ok I’m getting sidetracked.
So I check the time, and my first instinct is to go back home. I look at how many calories I burned and it said 20. I had a zinger with cheese for lunch. That’s around 300 calories at least! If I wanted to burn it I would have to maintain that first pace for maybe another 15 minutes?
I could do that, but then I would have to be running straight to the nearest hospital to save time, and it would be more convenient as I would most likely be needing medical attention.
I’m about to turn around and walk back home and I’m thinking to myself, “I got dressed for this and I’m going to quit after 3 minutes??”
Begrudgingly I tell myself to keep going, even if I mix jogging and walking, the fat sure ain’t burning itself, and if I don’t do it no one else will.
And so ends my first ever jog, the next time will be better, as the only one I have to beat is myself, and right now the bar is pretty low.
Tomorrow will be better. It always is.