Congratulations on learning to walk on your own two feet. The fumbling toddlers years are a distant memory. The uncoordinated falls of puberty can’t hurt you anymore. You’ve burst out of that metaphorical cocoon and transformed into the peak stage of your human form. Young adulthood.
Uh oh. Looks like that extra slice of pizza was a bad idea. And those cinnamon rolls you had pre, during, and post-dinner? Yikes. That’s some pretty unsightly ‘puppy fat’ you’ve got there, mister.
Two months living at home and I was already out of shape. I’d put on 10 pounds, stretched the elastic in my jeans to breaking point, and my love handles were starting to look more like love doughnuts. Speaking of which…no…must…resist. At least when I was in college, I was so busy with homework that I’d always forget to eat. Stress does wonders for the human physique, although I wouldn’t recommend it unless you want your hair to prematurely turn grey.
I decide to begin an exercise routine. Because of the unstable economy, an expensive gym membership was out of the question. I’ll go running instead. There’s a path near my house that’s 3 miles long and takes you past the river. I’ve been spending a lot of time in bed recently, so the scenic route might be a good idea.
Running is not fun. I discovered this quickly on my first attempt when I jogged out the house and couldn’t get even get to the river, never-mind glide alongside it. My lungs caved in and each breath felt like inhaling knives (the kind you see on Iron Chef). The next day I try again and it’s not a lot better. I barely see the water before turning back, but at least this time I don’t have a mini heart attack. Each day I run a little further and feel a bit more hopeful. Two months later and I effortless bound like an antelope who has seen The Lion King too many times.
Despite this, running is still not fun. Every time you go out there and pump your legs, is like heading into a battle you can’t win. The fatigue will always get you and the pain is unavoidable. Here’s a brief idea of what goes on inside my head.
Mile One. I feel great so I start briskly. My tank has plenty of pent up energy from sitting around all day. Not only do I feel great, I am great! Look at those trees turning into a blur of motion around me! Were those houses always so still or am I really that fast? Everything is in slow motion and I’ve got my finger on the fast forward button. I leave some casual park joggers in the dust. Was that the human torch who just ran by? Two more miles of this and not only will I have run my best time, but my confidence will be a personal best.
Mile Two. As I pass another jogging group and round a bend along the water, something digs into the side of my chest. Its nails penetrate my ribcage and a sharp pain arises. I look around me but it’s no stray cat or mountain lion. I’ve gone too fast out of the blocks and now I have a horrible stitch in my stomach. Not even halfway and I feel like collapsing and lying down. Is this what dying felt like? Surely it wasn’t as bad this.
But I’ve got reach the end because if I don’t, I know I will be going backwards rather than forwards. It’s a slippery slope from running everyday and staying in shape to couch potato. The moment I told myself it was ok to take it easy is the moment I never work hard for anything again. I lumber on.
Mile Three. I’ve stuck in there and am on the final stretch. The pain nearly wipes me out but I force my legs forward one step at a time. I’m not sure when but at some point my mind turns away from the pain and focuses on the rhythmic counting of strides. Left leg, right leg, left leg, right leg. People have told me about the elation and thrill of the ‘runner’s high’ but this isn’t it. That term implies there’s some kind of lightness and ease. I’m still struggling but at this point I’ve come to terms with it like every other hardship I’ve encountered in life.
I’m done. Three miles over. It never gets easier. But then again, things rarely do. At least now when I struggle I can do so looking lean and trim. Now I just have to avoid those cinnamon rolls…
Daily Adulting is a self-help humor blog written by Leon Wu. He documents his thoughts and experiences about growing up, while taking a break from life and moving back in with his parents. Subscribe to follow his (hopefully) uplifting journey.
