Too Much of a Good Thing
Hi. My name is The Maven and I'm completely addicted to exercise.
(... That's your cue to say 'Hi, Maven')
I used to hate working out as much as getting a root canal - I've had five of those, by the way, which is what happens when you inherit bad dental genetics while also being stupid enough to chase your gerbil across the road at 13 and get hit by a car.
Yes. I loathed exercise. I couldn't stand the thought of getting all sweaty and out of breath.
... That's not exactly true. There are other activities where I don't mind getting... well, never mind. Onward.
The problem with being fat, however, is that it does some nasty things to your body. The idea that my stomach is releasing extra estrogen that can grow tumours and set off my blood sugar levels all from the comfort of my couch really put me off. So, about four years ago I decided to do something about it.
I bought a treadmill.
I started walking.
I started to like it.
I lost some weight.
I liked it even more after that.
I started running.
And I loved the high of running even more than walking. That endorphin buzz was amazing.
Eventually I worked my way up to 4km every day. Sweet. What an awesome workout. I was pumped! I ran the bike path by our old house and was one of the "regulars". I ws the regular that other regulars waved to as they ran past, but whatever. It was nice to be regular at something other than bowel movements.
Wait. You probably didn't need to know that in order to get the gist of my story. Sorry.
Eventually running 4km every day was not enough. I had to have more. So I started doing strength training.
And that was quite enough, either. So I added in some yoga.
And that left me jonesing for even more, which lead me to doing 20 minutes of stair climbing.
Every day, on top of running a full time daycare and caring for my own two gremlins, I would run, lift weights, do some yoga and stair climb. I thought I was the healthiest person alive.
It turns out I was the dumbest person alive. Who knew?
I was wearing myself down in ways I didn't quite grasp. But I didn't care because I failed to grasp the concept of 'too much of a good thing' like normal people would. I had become addicted to working out. Figures, considering I have the addictive personality that eats other people's addictive personalities for circle time snack. It loves to find new things to obsess over.
Once I realized how unhealthy I was being I scaled back the exercise, which caused me start ovulating again, and voila, Spawnling!
So you, see kids: Excessive exercising can cause pregnancy. Let my story be a lesson to you.
The problem, of course, is that some exercise is good. If I could manage to do it in moderation and keep myself in check, I could end up actually healthy and not exhausted trying to pass as healthy.
So, very reluctantly, I have started a relationship with my treadmill again. We've done some couples therapy and I promised I wouldn't abuse him like I used to. I'm a changed Maven; a healthier one. I'm going to give him the space he needs and deserves as an inanimate object. I won't wear out his tread. I won't see other cardio exercise routines like DVDs and stairs. I will be loyal and monogamous.
Well, I might sometimes fondle some pilates weighted balls on the side, but a girl needs a little diversity, right? Strength training is important. I'm sure the treadmill will understand.
(... That's your cue to say 'Hi, Maven')
I used to hate working out as much as getting a root canal - I've had five of those, by the way, which is what happens when you inherit bad dental genetics while also being stupid enough to chase your gerbil across the road at 13 and get hit by a car.
Yes. I loathed exercise. I couldn't stand the thought of getting all sweaty and out of breath.
... That's not exactly true. There are other activities where I don't mind getting... well, never mind. Onward.
The problem with being fat, however, is that it does some nasty things to your body. The idea that my stomach is releasing extra estrogen that can grow tumours and set off my blood sugar levels all from the comfort of my couch really put me off. So, about four years ago I decided to do something about it.
I bought a treadmill.
I started walking.
I started to like it.
I lost some weight.
I liked it even more after that.
I started running.
And I loved the high of running even more than walking. That endorphin buzz was amazing.
Eventually I worked my way up to 4km every day. Sweet. What an awesome workout. I was pumped! I ran the bike path by our old house and was one of the "regulars". I ws the regular that other regulars waved to as they ran past, but whatever. It was nice to be regular at something other than bowel movements.
Wait. You probably didn't need to know that in order to get the gist of my story. Sorry.
Eventually running 4km every day was not enough. I had to have more. So I started doing strength training.
And that was quite enough, either. So I added in some yoga.
And that left me jonesing for even more, which lead me to doing 20 minutes of stair climbing.
Every day, on top of running a full time daycare and caring for my own two gremlins, I would run, lift weights, do some yoga and stair climb. I thought I was the healthiest person alive.
It turns out I was the dumbest person alive. Who knew?
I was wearing myself down in ways I didn't quite grasp. But I didn't care because I failed to grasp the concept of 'too much of a good thing' like normal people would. I had become addicted to working out. Figures, considering I have the addictive personality that eats other people's addictive personalities for circle time snack. It loves to find new things to obsess over.
Once I realized how unhealthy I was being I scaled back the exercise, which caused me start ovulating again, and voila, Spawnling!
So you, see kids: Excessive exercising can cause pregnancy. Let my story be a lesson to you.
The problem, of course, is that some exercise is good. If I could manage to do it in moderation and keep myself in check, I could end up actually healthy and not exhausted trying to pass as healthy.
So, very reluctantly, I have started a relationship with my treadmill again. We've done some couples therapy and I promised I wouldn't abuse him like I used to. I'm a changed Maven; a healthier one. I'm going to give him the space he needs and deserves as an inanimate object. I won't wear out his tread. I won't see other cardio exercise routines like DVDs and stairs. I will be loyal and monogamous.
Well, I might sometimes fondle some pilates weighted balls on the side, but a girl needs a little diversity, right? Strength training is important. I'm sure the treadmill will understand.