Is your groin burning? Do your calves ache? Does your chest feel like a sumo wrestler is giving you a deep pectoral massage? No, I’m not inquiring if you have crabs or tried that bewildering new sex trick from Cosmo (the latter is a crock; just try rolling over). I’m talking about exercise, and what happens when you take your young limber body for granted. I did four exercise classes in two days and have never felt less agile or more elderly. I’m 22! What happened to those “best shape of your life,” endless energy days I have heard so much about? Next thing you know I’ll have saddlebags or a mortgage or something. Okay, to be honest, I actually workout somewhat regularly, but you wouldn’t know it watching me hobble from my desk to the copier and back today.
I’ve heard that corporate desk culture is the fastest way to fattyville, but didn’t believe it until I found that the only thing luring me out of bed every morning was the promise of a scone with my tall mild misto. Add to that my sister’s newfound Bikram yoga, loud blender juicing, teetotaler ways and a nagging fear that the dryer is not in fact shrinking my jeans, and I decided something’s gotta give. I’m afraid it’s time to admit the truth: I don’t walk to and from campus 3 times a day, dine on Mr. Noodles and fit in workouts between lectures. If you’re not careful, 9-5s will fatten more than your bank account. It has been only two months since I ended my off and on relationship with my bossy personal trainer, and my flexibility has little to show for itself. And the blonde spindly girl on the mat beside me didn’t help matters. “Since you’re so flexible, focus on your left leg” the teacher says, as said blonde nearly pokes me in the eye with her splayed right tree trunk, while I cough to hide the cracks of my buckling knees. “You might want to see a sports specialist about that twinge:” it’s like I’m 13 again and just misread organism aloud to the whole class, but there’s no textbook in which to bury my head in shame.
Maybe yoga’s not for me? Maybe I don’t have the proper Lululemon uniform? I shall give it and my crackly elderly knees another go before throwing in the mat. Everyone deserves a second chance. Wait, is that… Ethel, from the office? On second thought, I always preferred running.