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Five minutes into the fitness class, I knew it was a mistake.
What I’d expected to be my weekly light toning class took a turn for the worse when a sub walked in to lead the group and announced, after our nice little warm-up, that we’d be starting the workout with burpees.
I’m sorry…what?!?
No, thank you, I thought. I’m just here for bicep curls and maybe a few squats.
Here’s my deal: I work out 3-5 times per week. I’m active with my kids. I think it’s incredibly important to be healthy, and to teach my kids to be healthy. I’ve had a regular exercise routine for as long as I can remember. I’m not a fitness superstar, but I’m in reasonable shape.
In fact, I regularly post selfies like this:
And this:
But now it’s time for my confession. I hate exercise.
I genuinely like what it brings to my life. More time outdoors. Play time with my kids. Energy. Health. Self-care.
I feel good about taking my bike instead of my car to reduce my carbon footprint.
I even love the feeling of tight and slightly sore muscles the morning after a good workout, knowing that the previous day I did something good for my body and worked to make it stronger. And the feeling of accomplishment after a good hike and the gorgeous scenery at the top of a viewpoint.
But the actual exertion?
Hate. Every. Moment.
I was in a class once and, mid-plank, the instructor started raving about how she just got goosebumps and an endorphin high because her body was so happy.
This does not happen to me. Ever. In fact, my endorphins hide in the deepest recesses of my body and don’t make an appearance until I’m on relaxed on the couch with a book in one hand and a cocktail in the other.
I don’t care how strong I’ve been, I’ve never felt happy – or strong – mid-plank. All I ever feel is miserable.
And I’ve been working out long enough that I can guarantee you that it will never change. I will never get that “runner’s high.” I will never enjoy exercise, no matter what form it’s in.
The day after that “toning” class featuring those ridiculous burpees, I went to Zumba. And the instructor of that class is someone who actually does enjoy exercise. In fact, she spent the entire hour singing and laughing and the smile didn’t leave her face once. She exuded joy throughout the entire workout.
More than once she caught my eye in the mirror and I could tell she was trying to encourage me by making me smile. And I wanted to say, “I’m just here to log some activity on MyFitnessPal in order to increase the pittance of a calorie allowance I get because I’m short and have a petite bone structure.”
Instead, I went home and bought this workout tee:
Maybe it will help to send the message more clearly?
Some people love exercise. I’ve tried to be one of those people, but I’m finally ready to admit that I just don’t.
But I’ll continue to do it, because:
- It contributes to my health.
- It helps me manage stress.
- It makes me feel better about my body.
- It gives me more energy.
- It sets a lifestyle example for my kids.
It might not be popular to admit it, but it’s honest. I hate exercise. And I bet I’m not the only one.
How about you? Do you love it or hate it?
