Starting in the sixth grade and lasting through my senior year of high school, I identified as a proud band geek. I saw everything in cliques though, just like the classic high school teen drama movies taught me to. The hot athletes, the stoners, the class clowns, the teachers' pets, and the band nerds all walked the blue carpeted halls of my small-town high school. I was a band nerd, and I couldn't see how I could be anything else. So, I played my instrument, went to school and church with my family, and that was about it. The only exercise I really got was during marching season -- a couple of months out of each year when I had to side-step across the uneven turf of our worn out football field with a thirty-pound snare drum harnessed to my shoulders. Of course, there was also our mandatory P.E. class, but getting pelted in the stomach with some dodge balls every morning isn't exactly what I would consider good exercise.
Once I left for college in 2016, things got pretty rough. Having never spent much time away from home by myself, my nerves were a mess, and being painfully shy didn't seem to help my case. I spent a lot of time in my dorm room. I made one truly solid new friend. I snacked a lot and spent too many hours watching Netflix in my dorm as some kind of sick way of forcing myself to forget about how lonely I was. Overcome with this anxiety, I could barely leave my dorm to get to the dining hall across the parking lot, let alone make it all the way to the gym.
In 2018, I got a job at a local pizza joint, which did wonders for my confidence. It forced me to both socialize and get my heart rate up. I lost maybe 15 or 20 lbs in the year and a half that I worked there, but I still wasn't eating well. I went through phases of not caring and eating whatever I wanted, to caring too much and hardly eating anything. I think it was as much of a mental struggle as it was a physical health issue.
My point is this: I have neglected my health, mentally and physically. Having to deal with my anxiety over the years, I've learned how to cope with it, what soothes or agitates it. But when it comes to physical exercise, I've always been at a loss. I grew out of my high school clique phase years ago. I get that exercise isn't about being some hot athlete. It's about being healthy, and I want to be healthy, but I hate the thought of going to a public gym. I've tried following at-home workout videos, but haven't been able to stick with anything for more than a week or two.
I've been way too dehydrated. I've passed out on multiple occasions. I'm done with it. Today marks day 5 of my new routine: an early morning run. I've wanted to cry at some point on almost every one of those mornings. It's going to be hard, but it's a change I've really been needing.
This isn't just a vow to take better care of myself; it's an investment in my future, in my family's future, and in my future kids' futures. This isn't going to be just another failed attempt to get fit. This isn't about a number on a scale. This is about me giving my health a real go. I'm in it for the long haul this time, and I'm feelin' optimistic.
