Working out

I like working out, to some extent.

By that I mean I like the way it makes me look and feel. My muscles are tighter. They feel more powerful and thus I feel more powerful. Plus it makes me look all sleek and svelte (as sleek and svelte as I get) and helps me do stuff like fit into that size 6 dress I bought from Target last year. Then there's stuff like the pink cheeked glow that I try to recreate with blush every day, or the satisfaction that comes from knowing I got up and moved instead of just sitting around, pretending that extra hour of sleep actually did me any good. Plus, sometimes I just need to move, need to work out the restless kinks in my body and mind, push the bad feelings out with every pound of my foot on the pavement or cycle of the elliptical.

So I think of these things, and then I go to work out. Like today when I tried to work out in my backyard with the Nike Training App on my phone. I felt like an idiot, but did it anyway, in full view of my mom, sister, and neighbors. Not to mention my dog, who decided to gleefully run toward me and sit on my phone, turning off the app as I struggled to do modified push-ups. Which brings me to my next point....

I also hate working out.

I'm not sure if it's the same for me as it is for everyone, because I feel like "omg I hate working out" always comes from people who cannot possibly hate it as much as I do. First, I look stupid doing it. I know this. I know that a lot of people also look stupid trying to run, but growing up with a sister like mine who looks like a freaking gazelle every time she begins running (seriously, all graceful and natural-like) and going to the gym and seeing similarly graceful athletes is enough to make me supremely self-conscious of how much effort it takes for me to avoid looking like...well I don't even know what. But it's very awkward, I'll tell you that. Combine how dumb I look with how bad I am at performing any physical activity and you get step two of why I hate working out. I can never get the breathing quite right, and thus have very little stamina. My muscles can handle the exertion, my lungs can't. Take today, for example. My chest hurt, my stomach hurt from all the panting, and since it was outside and I was cold that part of my mouth below my tongue was throbbing like crazy. I couldn't catch my breath. For the trifecta: I give up too easily. I start to feel crappy, wonder why I'm even work out in the first place, then throw in the towel.

Today was salvaged by a power walk around the park. Not sure what I'm going to do about tomorrow.

Till then...