Tuesday, March 24, 2009


There is one single activity that is the bane of my existence, and that is running. Everything I have done in my life in terms of sports and exercise has revolved around cardio workouts, but none of them really involved running. In high school I was on the swim team, and I enjoyed swimming a lot. Then I picked up hiking, and while I love to hike, I would never consider trail running. That's reserved for intense (and in my mind crazy) people. Then a few years ago I picked up cycling, courtesy of my coworker. And for a short period of time, I started to go to yoga classes at 6:45 in the morning. And I avoided running as if it were the plague.

Despite absolutely hating running, I picked it up at the gym, on the tread mill. In the past I have struggled with my weight considerably, yo-yoing back and forth. For a time, my weight fluctuated drastically, give or take twenty pounds. So why did I pick up running again? First, it's been too cold, and too windy for me to ride my bike. Yes, I know, I am a wimp. Second, I wasn't giving myself enough exercise that included any significant impact. What does that mean? I need some impact-based exercising to continue to build my bone mass, or else I will become a brittle old little Asian lady. I'm already Asian and little, I do not need to be brittle. So thus, running has found its way into life. And I hate, every moment I am on the tread mill, every second that passes, every time I breathe, I ask myself, why.

Because I don't want to be a fat glob again, and because I care about my health, and that outweighs my hatred towards running. I'm slow, but surely improving. When I do, my hatred for running will probably never change. Oh well, c'est la vie.