Saturday, October 6, 2007

The Ugliest Word in the English Language

One of my new blog subscriptions The Odradek (primarily because it would appear as though his blogs range typically from one word to one sentence which is precisely the type of subscription I have time for [it would be unfair of me not to note that despite the length, the blogs still manage to say something]) wrote a blog with the title of this one (I'm greedy so I'm not above stealing, I also see nothing wrong with a little pride and lust- those other things will really get you into trouble, though), the body of which consisted of nothing but the word "networking." I commented that I'd lean more toward the word "exercise." Now is the part of Sprockets where we elaborate.

I walk about five miles (sometimes more, but never less, MyFriends, never less) six days a week. I walk briskly enough to get my heart-rate up and estimate that I burn about 300 calories a day through walking. I also eat "right" so it's not a bad deal. Remember this, we shall revisit.

I love walking. But I hate exercise. Exercise of any other form is highly unappealing to me. I never want to exercise. I rarely even feel like taking an hour out of my day to go on my walk but, while I'm doing it, I might as well be Snow White. I'm all happy and chipper and I talk to squirrels. A scarcely known fact: Melissa from Michigan is a squirrel-whisperer. If it weren't for me, they'd never remember where they buried their nuts. I'm just sayin'.

Walking is meditative to me. Other forms of exercise, not so much. I suppose riding my bike wouldn't be so bad if the bike seat didn't violate me in ways I'm uncomfortable discussing here. This is where things become problematic.

While I'm quite happy with my weight and body fat %, I'm quite unhappy with the lack of muscle tone visible on my body. Walking will not help me with that. My body is used to walking and it only helps me to maintain. I'm as toned as I'm going to get from walking. Also, I can't walk all year due to weather conditions beyond my control.

All of this in mind, I recently came (that's what she said) to decide that I should escalate to a jog. Here's how that happened:

I realized that whenever it is necessary for me to cross a street during my walk, I jog across so as not to hold up traffic. It occurred to me on one such hustle that this jogging business wasn't so bad and I should see how long I could jog for. About 10 feet later, It occurred to me that this jogging business was a bummer. Still, I thought that I should try to keep it up and when I go on my walks, I should try to integrate jogging as much as I could handle until the walk becomes strictly a jog. I mean, hey, I've been waxing my legs for almost a year now. It doesn't even hurt anymore.

Sadly, it's not getting any better. The jogging is sapping all of the happy, shiny feelings out of my daily walk. It makes me sweat uncontrollably. It makes me breathe like a smoker. And it makes me laugh (oh, yes, out loud) even though it's not fucking funny. While laughing like Jack Nicholson in The Shining, my lungs get even more angry at me. It's absolutely ridiculous. Why would anyone want to do that to themselves?

Bottom line: I'm done with the jogging. It's really messing with my meditation and squirrel whispering. I think I read a study somewhere that it's impossible to meditate and squirrel whisper while engaging in any activity above a brisk walk. I can't cite it because I don't remember where I saw it.

For now, I'm going to keep walking. During that hour, I will feel like therapy is a waste of money and be completely reconciled with my jiggly ass. I've lived with it this long.

Seacrest, out.

P.S. Wanna know who has a thing for 31 year old sweaty moms with jiggly buns? Mosquitoes.

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