Living Life: My Resolution is Not Working Out

I’ve never been one to make New Year’s resolutions.

My thinking has been that if I couldn’t make something happen in the first two decades of my life, it’s probably not going to happen now.

But this year was different. Coming into 2010, I committed myself to getting into shape. Not necessarily peak physical condition – just some semblance of any actual shape, as opposed to the blob of flesh I have turned into.

I don’t know where it all went wrong. In my teens and early 20’s, I was one of the most active people I knew. Looking back, I’m pretty sure I got off track somewhere between the introduction of fantasy football and DVR technology.

Recently, however, even I had to concede that there were some minor health related issues starting to develop. Simple tasks such as climbing a small set of stairs, standing up from a sitting position, or even breathing had suddenly become more difficult; so I promised my Wife I would start working out with her.

The only problem with working out with my Wife is that she is one of those weird human beings that actually enjoys inflicting pain upon her body. I’ve never understood that mentality and that’s always been my biggest barrier to physical fitness.

Why do something that hurts when it feels so good to do something that doesn’t?

With carefully crafted excuses and "schedule conflicts", I was able to hold her off for a few months but when her dad surprised us with a membership to a gym (that sits in front of our apartment) as an early anniversary present, I knew my goose was cooked.

I could sleep easy at night knowing I was blowing off a gym membership that I paid for, but there was no way I could live with myself when it is on someone else’s dime.

Part of our package included two free hour long sessions with a personal trainer and I found myself dreading this more than anything else. Blame it on the male pride, but I just pictured some perfectly sculpted Adonis laughing at me as I lay crying on the floor trying to complete a single sit-up.

So I was actually a little relieved when I got a call from a perky female trainer to set up my appointment. She was exactly what I needed to get back into the flow of things. She was extremely nice and personable even though we both knew she was probably judging me a little on the inside.

Unfortunately, once the clock started on our session her niceness disappeared faster than a thought from Snooki’s brain.

It was like one of those hours where time stands still and you think 40 minutes have gone by but then you look at the clock and see that it’s only been 12. Three minutes in, I thought I was going to throw up. 17 minutes in, I was pretty sure I was going to throw up. And 33 minutes in, I knew I was going to throw up.

For the last bit of our session, she put me on a treadmill right next to my Wife and of course they had to hit it off. It was one of those nightmarish scenarios that you feared in high school (or at least I did) where two girls were making fun of you... right in front of you.

MY WIFE (jogging along at a breezy pace on her treadmill): It’s taken me so long to get him to come here with me.

TRAINER: Oh, I know, my husband was a big wimp at first too.

ME (hanging on for dear life to the treadmill that I’m pretty sure the trainer set to “Rocket Launch” speed): I’M RIGHT HERE. I CAN HEAR YOU!

The pain suffered during that hour was nothing compared to the soreness I felt for the next couple of days. To talk on my cell phone, I literally had to use one arm to prop the other arm with the phone up to my ear. To add more injury to injury, I contracted an annoying head cold a few days later. Between the head cold affecting my balance and the stiffness throughout my body, I lurched around our apartment like a zombie.

I hate to admit it, but now that I’m past the initial push, I’m starting to feel a little better on the whole. Softball season starts this week and it will be nice to get to first base without the aid of a stretcher.

It only took me seven full months, but I’m finally starting to make good on my resolution.

Next year, I’m going to commit to something I can handle. I’m going to be the best nap taker of 2011.


Follow Josh on Twitter @Just_Being_Josh