I honestly hate working out. I know people say they love running or working out, but I just don't see how they can like it, nonetheless love it. So, I'm going to be one of the first people to ever be honest about it. I hate it.
Well, this whole thing started on Monday with me reading an article in Health, the magazine. The magazine gave me ten reasons to exercise. I can't exactly remember all of them, but the most enticing reasons (and the only ones I can remember) were 1. it improves your memory, and 2. it makes you physically feel better.
I absolutely cannot remember a thing. My memory is so bad that I have thought to myself at times that I could be developing early dementia. But that rant is for another time. At any rate, having a better memory was very enticing. Any secondly, exercise makes you feel better, and heaven knows I could use some of that since I get bone aches from just walking to class.
This whole memory gain plus feeling better, well it sounded pretty good. I decided I would exercise. I mean, I know I've always disliked it (dislike, as in absolutely despised it), but you know, maybe since it's 2010 now, I would discover a new and exciting love for it.
The thing is, I have always thought I'd rather just eat nothing instead of exercise if it came down to it. I've read about all of the good things. I've had my friends tell me how running makes them feel better. And I know that building muscle helps burn more calories. Seriously, I know a lot about exercise... from magazines, not from experience.
That never changes anything. All of these great things, but still, Mel has never budged on this one. Been there, done that, hated it. Like, people don't even ask if I'd like to exercise with them because they know the answer.
Okay, so back to my new memory plan: I sent a text to cousin Mol and sister Mars and asked if they wanted to work out during a break that we all had on Wednesday.
They agreed. Wednesday rolls around. I begin thinking of reasons to not go. I didn't get much sleep last night. Wait, the article said that exercise is good for waking you up or something. Ok, well it's really rainy and cloudy and umm, I can't... Hmm, there's no reason there. Ok, well I just don't feel good. Dang, that article! It covered every excuse. I'll just go do it. It will be fun.
So off to the gym I go. We did the eliptical thing first. I got a good 15 minutes in and moved to the bike thinking it'd be a nice break, you know, sitting down. Ahhh, I couldn't have been more wrong. 5 minutes on that thing and I was outta there. I kept giving Mary looks behind me and mouthing, "This is terrrrible!"
We moved to weights. The weights weren't too bad at first. I only complained to Mars that it was absolutely miserable and I hated it about three times. We did inner legs, outer legs, sides... Lots of things, and then we were finished about an hour later.
Most people say they feel good after they exercise. I didn't feel any different. But I knew the next day would be miserable.
The next day was miserable.
I awakened to a stiff body. Sore sides, couldn't cross my legs for the pain. It wasn't too fun. Not horrific, but not comfortable by any means.
And then the next morning rolls around, two days after the Great Workout.
Pain. Agony. Suffering. Okay, maybe not that bad. But I kept waking up all morning because my legs hurt when I moved them. I had to lie straight... Flat on my back, legs completely straight, no moving. As I was laying there, the thought came to mind: I'm going to fall to the ground when I get out of bed! What am I going to do?
I waited a while and slowly got out of bed away from the bedside table, clinging to my bed as an aid. I didn't fall down! But I went straight to the bath because that was the only thing I could think to do.
Surprising to me, I have made it through this day so far, slowly, but I'm making it! Mars says I need to exercise again soon. The thought makes me want to cry. But I know I need to do it. My memory has already failed me multiple times today, and Gav has agreed that she thinks I could be getting the early signs of dementia:
I didn't even recognize a guy who I spent all day with on Monday. He talked to me, but I think he recognized the blank stare on my face as I ran through my memory trying to figure out who he was--you would think I would be a pro at faking knowing people because I can never seem remember people. But anyways, then I came in from class, asked Gav where Nat is and she laughed because she had told me about 17 times that she has initiation, then I searched for my phone which was in my hand. All in a 10 minute period.
So I guess I will be working out on Monday. Well, possibly. I think Mars is going to make me do it.
Oh dear, the Great Workout. How long do you think this will last?
