BLOG: Balancing couch and Wellness Center time
Earlier I thought to myself, ‘I’ve been sitting all day. The weather is beautiful. I’m getting a bit chunky. I should go on a bike ride.’ So I did. I could feel the muscles in my legs burning, the endorphins rushing and my pulse quickening as I sped around campus and beyond. I followed the wind and tried to race it. Eventually, it led me to Wal-Mart, where I bought a box of raspberry-filled donuts. Why? Because life is short, my friends, and Bismarks are delicious.
These hips don’t lie: I am a curvaceous woman. Granted, some of those curves could also be classified as rolls, but who’s counting? Good food is fun to eat, and the majority of my hobbies — reading, blogging, watching movies, judging the imbeciles who comment on YouTube videos — render me sedentary. Attending college in a small town, however, has presented me with the opportunity to act on many otherwise foreign notions. For example, I now have the ability to ride my bike to the closest Wal-Mart without a high risk of being run over or shot. Sometimes, I even take my finger off the trigger of my pocket-sized pepper spray when I go for sunset walks. Another benefit of being a Coyote is that I now have, at no additional cost, access to the shiny new University Wellness Center.
I’ll level with you guys. I’ve gone to the Wellness Center a total of three times so far, but I feel I can offer a relatable perspective for those of us who recognize the value in exercise but are hesitant to setting foot into the lair of the perpetual joggers and individuals who own more yoga pants than they do underpants. Nothing hits my self-esteem quite like my stomach fat jiggling as I wheeze on a treadmill next to a girl who’s passing the 5 mile point and starting the next chapter of “50 Shades of Grey.” As someone who hadn’t stepped foot in a proper gym before, however, I can’t deny that when I entered the center this past February it appeared to me as a glorious shrine to sweat and the promise of bikini season. I’d gone with my then-roommate, a former cross country runner, who had chuckled at my bumpkin-like awe of the TV monitors on the various exercise machines. After 20 minutes on the elliptical, I hobbled back to bed and spent the rest of the day in a vegetative state—my muscles stewing in lactic acid. My second visit to the Wellness Center wasn’t until spring semester finals week, which only goes to show the extreme lengths I went to in the name of procrastination. This time it was a solo trip, and I distinctly remember believing that all the exercise bikes were broken when none of the control panels responded to my mashing of buttons. Nobody told me you had to start pedaling first.
My last visit was a couple weeks ago, when my current roommate and I went to a Zumba class, which I enjoyed. Not only was the workout fun (I sure do love to boogie down), but I also thoroughly enjoyed watching the older woman next to me as she realized what was being censored in the second verse of LMFAO’s song “Shots.” That experience speaks for itself.
As a woman with a passionate, ongoing love affair with carbs and a close personal friendship with the couch, even I can acknowledge that the Wellness Center has plenty to offer. My infrequent visits are more a testament to my lack of will power than any failing on the center’s part. Whether you’re into group work outs or solo flights on the elliptical, it has that and a climbing wall. Maybe, if I can peel myself from the internet, I’ll start braving the domain of the perpetually fit. Perhaps, one day, I will join their ranks. For now, though, while the weather permits, I think I’ll enjoy my nice sunset walks. That’s how Paula Dean lost her weight, and let me tell ya’ll, she and I have a similar philosophy when it comes to butter.
