Exercise Will Hurt You
It happened gradually.
It was just after my second year at Uni. The year was 2012 and if the Mayans were to be believed, the world was going to end and so I thought, Why even get an internship for the next four months? What would that accomplish? I was dumb back then. (Still am). So I used that precious time to garner followers on Twitter.
Best. Decision. Ever… You know, back then.
Long story short, I spent the time eating, tweeting and sleeping (with the occasional trip to the loo and the occasional shower). Time flew by and before I knew it, it was opening day. Third year was here, time to go back to school. Got school fees from dad since HELB didn’t have my back (Side note: HELB is real people. Wah! You don’t know. Pay your loans), and got matumizi money from Mommie Dearest – after adding one or two extra expenses in the mix. Don’t look at me like that, we’ve all done it. Doesn’t make it right though, but still…
Anyway, as I was about to step out into the wild blue yonder, Mum looks at me and says, “Mark, na umekuwa mnono.”
And there I am, one foot out the door like, “Mum, wachanga jokes.”
Mum is laughing now and calls my sister from the other room, points at me and asks her, “Si huyu amenona?” And my sister has the nerve to stand there, smile, and nod in in confirmation. I deny everything and leave for school.
Behind me the house was in perpetual laughter.
Day one after class, a random classmate comes up to me and says, “Wah! Mark, na umekuwa ukikula nini?”
“Mbona?” I ask.
“Boss, umejaza,” he says.
The third strike was my band people (Yes, I was in a band). Those guys made fun of me aki ya nani. So I decided I had to get a handle on the situation before love handles appeared on me. The obvious solution was exercise.
Now, when people tell you that exercise feels good, they are lying. Exercise does NOT feel good. The bastards don’t warn you about the pain. Exercise will hurt you.
I had taken up running. Early in the morning when it was still dark so no one could see my half-assed attempts at a healthy lifestyle. It didn’t help that I thought that I ran a bit weird if you can call what I was doing “running”. I did this for a week. A whole seven days! Then I said to myself, “Why am I doing this? I’m not Oliver Queen. I don’t put on leather and play with arrows at night. I don’t need to be fit.” Then I quit and spent the next week devouring fries and recovering from lactic acid related complications.
A few weeks later I noticed a gut. Now when you’re a guy in Uni and you discover that you have a gut, you have a problem. It didn’t help that my friends had abs. Actual abs. Enter stage left, self-esteem issues. I started doing crunches and sit-ups. I discovered the word Obliques. I stopped eating fries. My google search history consisted of the words, Abs, Of, and Steel. In that order. Two weeks later I was like, “No. Jesus did not die for me to suffer.” Then I bought myself some fries and watched several movies.
I like fries, FYI.
Now, I’m not advocating that you shouldn’t exercise but for me, hio uchungu wachana nayo. I do not want to voluntarily subject my body to pain. I mean, pain is the body’s way of telling you to stop doing what you are doing. Listen up when your body speaks! And the problem with exercise is that, apart from not yielding immediate results, you have to do it constantly. Like every other day. Why? So I can get bigger biceps even though the only thing I do with my arms is type and carry a computer? Nah. Just, nah.
It’s now 2015. I still have these lapses where I think, Dude, you are unfit. Then I torture myself for a few days and end up saying, “Screw this!”. But eventually I’m going to accept the way I look. Maybe. Hopefully.
However, if you like exercising, go ahead and do it. I hear it’s good for you.