A girlfriend of mine and I recently had a conversation about New Year’s party options, which led to another convo about New Year’s resolutions, which sparked another conversation about physical fitness (the point of this post.) I expressed to her that while I’m naturally thin due to Dad’s genetics, I’m sure my physical health could be improved because I don’t work out on a regular. My fitness sprees usually last anywhere from a week to a month and then I’m back to the same Verity.
In addition to being healthier and having more energy, I also want my body to be in better shape. I have what I call the skinny girl curse—a pudgy tummy. It sticks out like a sore thumb from the rest of your trim silhouette and has to constantly be sucked and pulled in. The suck and pull I’ve found is a good hiding method, but it requires full awareness. When you have a few drinks and feel a little good and free (read: intoxicated), and the next day you’re greeted by an Instagram collage of you looking cute until your eyes make their way down to your soft pound of mush bulging from the crop top you were determined to wear.
It’s not anything too bad and can be resolved with a little discipline to eat fewer snacks, along with enough drive to take my lazy tush to the gym and work out. But I hate working out with a passion. I love the refreshed feeling afterwards and the burst of energy, but I hate the process. And not to point the finger or place blame, but in my defense, physical fitness was never really that big of a deal in my house. We didn’t grow up taking hiking vacations on the weekends like our White neighbors. Occasionally, I got out for a short game of hide and seek, but as a little girl who was literally scared of everything from squirrels to the neighbor’s German Sheppard, that wasn’t a frequent occurrence.
Now, as a soon to be 26-year-old woman, I’ve come to the realization that I really have to start taking my physical health more seriously and stop blaming my parents for not taking us skiing instead of our annual trip to Disney World. I know that I’ve taken advantage of my father’s side of the family’s high metabolism, but as I picture my beautiful aunts and cousins, they too have the pudge and many of them are victims of high blood pressure. I highly doubt that I’ll become a fitness maven, but I do plan to do simple things to improve my health, like eating less BBQ Lay’s and finally taking walks around the track that’s embarrassingly close to my apartment—one block to be exact.
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I’ve come to the conclusion that for me, physical fitness has to be simple. People make it seem so hard, almost like a chore, which makes it less appealing. While eating raw brussels sprouts, drinking soy milk and working out three hours for five days a week may be super healthy and great for some, it’s completely unrealistic and a plan to fail for me to even set such a goal.
The mistake I’ve made in the past is starting things I knew I wouldn’t maintain. This time around though, the goal is to put less thought into it and just do things that make sense for my body. I don’t do well with deprivation, so I won’t tell myself I can’t have something. Instead, I’ll just eat things in moderation, take more walks around my neighborhood and increase my intake of things that are beneficial to my body, like fruits and vegetables which I happen to love. That’s it, nothing more.
Let’s keep in touch. Follow me on Twitter: @VerityReign
Could your physical routine use a little revising? Are you the dieting type or eat what you want in moderation type? Are you a skinny girl with “the curse?” Share it all below.
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