This weekend I had a terrible epiphany: I am out of shape. Even though I feel like I eat healthy. Even though I try to get movement in my day. Even though I don’t watch TV (though I do read far too much). I’ve even been losing a little weight and was feeling fairly happy with myself.
Until I went shopping.
I know most of you probably think you know what I’m going to say next: I went into the store, found out I was two sizes larger than I’d been the last time I went shopping, and everything I tried on looked horrid, blah blah blah. Well, nope. That wasn’t it at all. I even got an ego boost when I bought a pair of pants two sizes smaller than I had the last time I went shopping (okay, that was probably thanks to the cut rather than any significant weight loss).
So what went wrong? Well, except for the fact that I spent two full days scouring every shop in St. George for a teal-and-brown dress to wear for my sister-in-law’s wedding, nothing. At the time.
But then Sunday morning, I woke up sore. How pathetic is that? Sore from shopping. It’s true, though. I can barely hobble around today. I’m supposed to be happy and chipper as I show students around campus, but instead I just want to be a grouch and curl up and sleep until walking doesn’t hurt.
I know exercise is good for you. So why does it have to be so hard to do? There are always so many excuses: no swimming because I look bad in a swim suit; no hiking because gas is too expensive to drive to a place to hike; no gym because I can’t find a spare hour in my day; no sports because I have no talent. What’s a girl to do?
If it were a simple matter of weight loss, there’d be no problem. I’d just sit outside in our St. George heat and sweat it all off.
Perhaps I’ll make it a point every day to climb the stairs in the student service center…all three flights of them.