It's an effort, at least.

I do not know who reads this, thus I do not know how many of you know my stance on such things as exercise, gyms, and so on. Up until recently, my stance has been solidly: No, Thank You. I like hiking. I like bike rides. I like doing-stuff-to-have fun, not doing-stuff-to-elevate-your-heart-rate.


I've had a sort of on-again off-again relationship with running especially. It started freshman year of high school, and has been mostly "off-again" since I moved back to the US before my junior year. I picked it up again second semester last year, and pretty eagerly ditched it once I went back north for the summer. (After all, I couldn't go on my usual route. What was the use of that, then? I certainly couldn't run in my neighbourhood or-- God forbid-- on the treadmill in my basement.)


And yet...


Well...


I know I SHOULD exercise. Practically, I recognise that fact. But, I convinced myself, I do so much walking around campus! Why, that's PRACTICALLY three thirty minute sessions a week of cardio, right? (No, I know.)


So I felt guilty, but did nothing about it. Until my friend, Joanna, and I made a pact to go together. I'm not entirely sure how this happened, actually, but it did. Some of it has to do with the fact that, not being a student at my school, she cannot use our Really Fancy Gym unless a student from the college is there (that would be me). The other part if it is, well, it's a lot more fun when there is someone else there! So now we go for a bit over an hour most days. And in this time, I have made two shocking discovers:


1. I don't hate exercising or gyms, I hate treadmills. They are an instrument of torture, I am convinced. Ellipticals, however, I am fine with. Joanna and I swing ourselves along on those for ages, happily engaged in the television that is attached to each (with cable-- told you it was Fancy). I don't mind those crazy weight machines, and I even don't mind sit-ups as long as they are on yoga balls. So. It's not too bad after all. In fact, I quite like it.


2. I have 9 socks. Not 9 pairs, 9 socks. Don't believe me? I have proof. See?

Maybe this is normal for some people, but it is not normal for me. I am the Queen of Socks. I have socks in every colour and pattern imaginable. Or rather, I did. Where did they all go? Where are my flamingo socks? My blueberry socks? Where is my unicorn sock? I am absolutely, 100% confused. I'm not sure I would mind as much if it didn't mean I have to do laundry so frequently now. Normally I am a flip flop kind of girl, but one cannot wear flip flops to the gym. And so, that means that every four days I have to do laundry, in order to have unoffensive feet.

But hey. At least I don't hate the gym!