An Exercise-Hater Finds Love. (It’s long, People, and you’ll thank me.)

by

By Kim Brittingham

(MizFit note: We’re honored, People. She needs no introduction. Want more of Kim? Head over here or here after reading.)

I’ll never be one of those sleek, adrenaline-pumped people in a commercial for high-tech sneakers or sports drinks, grimacing in steely determination with a toe poised on the edge of a starting line, grabbing life by the humid balls one steep mountain-bike path at a time, sweating electrolyte-blue droplets with glorious abandon.

Impossible. Because I hate exercise.

To me, exercise is a big, bullying bruiser who’s all too happy to push me to the brink of death. It is a doomful march at gunpoint through a syrup-aired tropic jungle. It’s being face-up on a gurney, unable to tell the huddle of white coats around me what hurts, so they cannot help me.

And I hate that I feel this way. It seems unnatural.

You would think, as part of a built-in mechanism to promote survival of the human species, that we would all have an innate desire to jump and run and flail our limbs around on a chalk-lined field.

So why is it that some of us don’t?

When I was a kid, my mother was always telling me to “Go outside! Get some fresh air! Play with other kids!” It was never an alluring prospect. Especially when it involved a ball, or moving my body rapidly from one place to another.

It just seemed I was born for more sedentary pursuits. I wanted to be left alone, so I could finish reading “The Great Gilly Hopkins” for the hundredth time, or return pen to lined paper as I scrawled my latest short story into a ratty spiral notebook. For sure, I had the cerebral thing taken care of – but why didn’t I feel a more natural pull towards the physical?

Maybe it was the frightening state that exercise put my body in, so reliably, every time.

Running even the shortest distance made my heart pound so loudly in my head, it partially deafened me to everything outside. And it beat far too fast for any activity that was meant to be fun. A voice throbbed in my ears, this can’t be healthy! I’m going to have a heart attack!

The accompanying shortness of breath was terrifying. I’d look around at all these kids frolicking and having fun and think, they can’t possibly be experiencing what I am right now, or they’d be sprawled on the grass dying!

Clearly their lungs, unlike mine, had not shut down, collapsed into themselves like two popped pink gum-bubbles, two pink layers clinging together, no open space to fill, just me and a dead-end sort of choking. I often wonder if I had asthma and was undiagnosed.

So no, exercise did not equate to joy in my life. It meant extreme discomfort, pain, the fear of death.

If you went to public school in the United States in the ‘70s, no doubt you remember the Presidential Physical Fitness Test – a battery of events meant to test your strength and stamina, the mastery of which earned you a navy blue embroidered patch at an end-of-school year ceremony.

I never, ever passed a single Fitness Test event – that is, never met the minimum requirements to be deemed “fit”. I couldn’t even pass the “easy” ones, like the long jump. The long jump required you to bend your knees, swing your arms energetically at your sides, then launch yourself forward, sneakers together. I could never jump far enough.

The message was clear: I just wasn’t cut out for sporty things. There was something wrong with me. I was abnormal. Unfit for society. Maybe even fat.

But I had additional reasons for avoiding all things athletic. Like I didn’t care to get hit in the face with a ball.

As an adult, I’m comforted to know I’m not alone in this. Recent conversations with friends have revealed there were like-minded kids all over the country who valued their noses and teeth.

With us, this ball phobia ripened with age into a piquant blend of belligerence and proud disinterest in team sports. Our classmates hated us for it, of course. My friend Kathy zealously confessed that during gym games, the ball would come to her and she’d cross her arms to make sure she didn’t catch it – complete with a kiss-my-ass smile.

I remember being forced to play softball in gym, but having no idea what was going on, nor did I care to learn. Always last to be chosen for a team, I’d be cast off into the outfield, where I imagined I was in a Minnesota flower field in a calico dress, Laura Ingalls’ unwritten chubby sister, just a stone’s throw from our darling little house on the prairie. I wondered if I sucked on my teeth hard enough if the gap between the front two would close up on its own. I pondered how they got Tootie to look so much older for her short stint as a supermodel on “The Facts of Life”, and decided with some irritation that Mrs. Garrett was being overly protective – so what if a twelve-year-old girl snarled into the camera? And no doubt I was thinking, this sun is so hot! And there are gnats in this grass!

And yes, the occasional ball would bounce past me on the dewy lawn, and suddenly everyone was yelling at me. Oh — was I supposed to catch that?

Oddly enough, I’m reminded here of Ralphie in that classic holiday movie “A Christmas Story”, when he’s waiting in line to see Santa Claus, and The Wicked Witch of The West cheerfully accosts him. “Don’t bother me,” he says to her dismissively, “I’m…I’m thinking.” That was me and sports.

That’s me today, faced with a world of gym memberships and upwardly-mobile rollerblading couples and impromptu volleyball games among neighbors. Don’t bother me with that painful, sweaty stuff – I’m thinking. It’s who I think I am. A thinker, not a mover. It’s what I’ve come to believe.

But I understand that bodies need activity to stay healthy, energetic and mobile. Herein lies the problem. How can I learn to love something I hate, in order to have the happiest, longest life possible?

Several years ago, on the advice of my former therapist, I agreed to a free trial session with her personal trainer. She recommended him highly, said he wasn’t like other trainers: “He’s very patient and insightful…very Zen.” Being that she knew me well and specialized in helping large-size women with eating disorders, I trusted her judgment.

This bald and beefy little black man in linen with a Buddha collection, who’d left behind Wall Street to bring people into better balance with their bodies, completely sucked ass.

He pushed me beyond my limits. He pushed and he pushed.

I told him as soon as I walked in the door, “Look dude, here’s the thing. I hate exercise. And the only way this is going to work is if I feel I have a chance in hell of doing this long-term. I have to want to come back.” I thought I made it clear that I didn’t want the workout to be too hard at first, that I needed to work my way up slowly. Much more slowly than most people. If I left panting and exhausted and deafened by my own heartbeat, chances are he’d never see me again. In that state, I’d gladly sign up for ten to twenty years off my life if it meant I didn’t have to go through that torture again. He nodded sagely and I thought he got me.

Halfway through the session I stopped and looked at him incredulously, red-faced, my scalp a salty waterfall cascading over my face. “Did you not hear what I said? This is too much!”

“Well I have to make you do a certain minimum, you know?” He sounded exasperated. “If I don’t do that, then I’m not doing my job. I can’t let you leave here knowing I didn’t at least give you the minimum I know you need to see a difference.”

I’m sorry, but you won’t convince me that doing only twenty lifts on each arm instead of forty would’ve done me no good whatsoever. Because you see, at twenty, I might’ve felt like, “Hey! I can do this!” Yes, encouraged. I might’ve come back to him, determined to do twenty-five, thirty, forty, or more.

But instead, I left frustrated, feeling like the poster child for Athletic Imbecility. It was sixth grade gym class all over again. A minimum had been set, and if I couldn’t meet it with a smile on my face, then I was a physical reject.

Furthermore, did you catch that last thing he said? The “minimum I know you need to see a difference“? In hindsight, I realized this dumb bell was completely appearance-focused. For him, my success (and his) were defined by how my body looked. Nothing I’d said about wanting more energy, stamina and overall strength had really sunk in for him. For him, this was about reshaping a lumpy fat girl. All those other benefits fell in the fringe category. Gee, I hope he’s become more enlightened.

I wasted a lot of years believing myself incapable of anything athletic, and so I sat back on my butt and never tried. I was never taught the value of baby steps.

But a Christmas gift from an optimistic ex and a decision to move to a beach town may have saved my life.

You see, an old boyfriend gave me a lovely red beach cruiser bicycle, complete with a wicker basket and a pretty flower-patterned bell. It sat in basement storage in my former Manhattan apartment building for about eight years, rusting. I believed I was too weak to hold myself up, my butt too big to sit on the seat, the streets too crowded with unforgiving traffic to make it safe for a trembling wreck of a beginner like me.

Upon moving to an idyllic oceanfront community in New Jersey, where leisurely bicyclists on cheerful pastel cruisers is an uplifting, everyday sight, I decided to climb aboard the old red bike and give it another try.

Yes, it hurt at first. My legs were stiff and unsteady. And in a bona-fide biblical miracle, my bicycle seat managed to locate bones buried deep within my abundant ass, and pressed them to a point of pain.

But there were also intoxicating oceanic breezes that cleansed me as I rolled through them, feeling like a sunburned infant diving with the grace of a porpoise into a pool of cool milk, my soul sighing.

I wanted to do it again.

And there was adventure in this biking thing! There was curiosity — satisfied! Surrounding towns become increasingly familiar as I sail down little-known side streets, past impeccable art deco mansions and shabby seaside bingo halls lost in time. I discover farmer’s markets and yard sales. And I feel like I can fly.

I have moments when I think to myself, But I’m not obsessed enough with biking for it to make a real impact on my health or wellbeing. It can’t be helping me – it’s not hard enough!

However, my legs don’t hurt anymore when I ride. And I can ride three towns away and back without feeling like I need an all-day nap to recover. These are indicative of progress, are they not? Of an improved level of fitness? And isn’t any improvement still worthwhile? Don’t lots of little improvements eventually add up to big ones?

So maybe I don’t have to be “obsessed”. Maybe I don’t need to be a Gatorade-chugging fanatic in clingy streamlined shorts. If I never sign up for a hip and happenin’ road race for any kind of cure, it’ll be A-OK. I believe it’s still possible to be happy and healthy and live a long life without changing one’s status from geek to jock. Yes, finally, I believe this! After 37 years, I have seen there is joy in movement!

And maybe if I get in better shape, I’ll find joy in even more kinds of movement! Who knows? I always dreamed of taking up fencing – ever since I saw “The Princess Bride.” And when I practice, I want to wear a red sash at my waist. I doubt I’ll make it into a Nike commercial with all the would-be Olympic hot bods, but you never know. Look for a chubby girl with a sword or a rickety red bike with a book in its basket, encouraging you warmly to “Just do it.”

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Comments

  2. I adore Kim. Her writing, her beautinessment, her spirit, her humor, her tenacity—–all of her.

    perhaps she will have a book out someday for us all to purchase?

    pretty please?!

    M.

  6. Great post!
    This was well-timed, too. The Bag Lady generally feels the same way about organized sports, working out, etc., but loves to get out and walk. Unfortunately, she’s been really busy in the kitchen lately, and hasn’t been out and about much.
    When the sun comes up today, the Bag Lady will go on a walk-about!
    Thanks, Kim.

  8. i am just starting to really enjoy exercise too but i can totally relate to your childhood stuff. i spent tons of time, in doors, playing barbies and drawing pictures and couldn’t be bothered to go outside. in senior year gym class, i convinced our coach to let me help him pass out equipment so i didn’t have to change or play.

  9. Great read.

    I prided myself on being entirely inactive for the first twenty-three years of my life. My body was a just vessel to drive my highly opinionated brain around in.

    Exercise made my lungs go on fire. It did not come easy. So I did not do it.

    It didn’t occur to me that it hurt so much to move because I was unfit. Not because I was just a book person and not an outdoors person.

    Yet now I am one of the lycra-clad crazypeople. So it is possible to cross over to the Other Side in a very extreme way.

    But honestly? I think riding a pretty bike around a pretty town sounds like a much more sensible option.

    TA x

  10. I was a skinny athletic tomboy until puberty slammed into me like a Mack truck. I continued to be able to catch and throw balls and played softball in HS, but I got fatter and fatter and fatter. Between fat genes and old-fashined farm eating (we lived IN TOWN!) the pounds piled on and on and on.

    I’ve just started learning to enjoy the gym and walking and doing DVDs. It’s an uphill climb – which is why it’s taking so danged long.

    I, too, keep plugging away.

    (and the blog links don’t work for me either. the myspace one above workds, but not the others.)

  11. huh.

    I always thought I resided in an alternate universe (one where the Renaissance Man is constantly traveling and my Tornado never slumbers) & this is my proof 😉

    I’m not at computer but the lilk (kimwrites.com) worked for me.

    Kim? Kim? (The rest of that thought is, in actuality, me hopeth you still sawing lumber & sound asleep)

  12. This is a fantastic read. The ability to see this person from early days to now is painted perfectly. The idea that if this is so good for you and why it feels so bad to so many people, is a great observation. MizFit, you never cease to WOW me with the stuff this blog comes up with.

  13. hmmmmm zipping myself and the Tornado past desktop.

    link still works for me.

    and THANK YOU TOM.

    Im gonna carry your kind words with me all day as the selfesteem booster I needed today.

  15. Love the message.

    Whenever I talk to people and say that every little bit helps, they spout off with how you need an hour of exersise to really lose weight and keep it off (at least that’s the average)…or that you need an hour of walking for good heart health. Well, if I feel discouraged and quit it’s not helping my heart at all!! Whatever you can do helps!

  16. people oft feel compelled to tell me what I ‘should’ be doing workoutwise as well (read: crosstrain. I’ve been doing the stationary bike for EIGHT YEARS 😉 but it fits my life right now).

    I just tell them it’s what I’m doing or, for me.right now., QUITTING because it’s too much.

    I’l take the former.

    M.

  17. Every single word of this could have been written by me – if I was as thoughtful and articulate as Kim, that is. I get so boxed in by my own preconceptions of myself! But I firmly believe there is a shiny red bicycle out there for everyone, but you have to find it, and believe you deserve to find it.

  18. This really hit home for me. Great post!

    My parents tried so hard to get me interested in sports. I made up excuses to get out of games, pretended to be sick to get out practice and cried when forced to play. I have extremely vivid memories of the hell that was softball. I just wanted to be at home with my books.

    I love exercise now, but I attribute it all to a trainer who helped me overcome my fear of all things athletic. It’s a process. I just made it to a group class last week after spending months in absolute fear that I wouldn’t be able to keep up.

  19. I can’t even imagine thinking that I wasn’t a person that could ever be active. This gives me a whole different perspective (and makes me grateful for my desire to “workout”… plus, a little runner’s high every now and then helps). Pretty much my whole life I’ve been doing something somewhat active. Even though many times I chose to stay inside and read (boy did I love those Nancy Drew books), I also did plenty of riding bikes and rollerskating as a kid.

    Thanks to Kim for sharing her story- what a talented writer. And I’m so glad that she finally found something to keep her moving. The thought of a bike ride through a beach town sounds fabulous.

    Oh, and the link worked fine for me. = )

  20. Oh, Bravo! Love you, Kim – just love you.

    I love that you’ve done this, of course. More, I love that you’re a walking illustration of the joy of movement. I love your insight – that you don’t have to be “obsessed” to get benefit from exercise, that it’s not about what someone else thinks you should be doing, it’s about what you love to do and what keeps you coming back.

    I SO identify with your story. I was the kid on the couch with the book, always. Always. TV, I could take or leave, didn’t care. Sports? Please! (And you might have had undiagnosed asthma, Kim – I did, and when I found that out in my 20s and started treating it, it made a world of difference). I didn’t move unless I absolutely had to…and that didn’t change till I decided I was starting it MY way and not worrying about what other people think.

    Go, Kim! 🙂

    V.

  21. When I got to the part about the Presidential Fitness Test and ball-phobia, I thought maybe I had written this in my sleep! You’ve definitely tapped into the collective-unconscious.

    I don’t know how old you are, but don’t be too quick to write off the idea that you may spontaneously transform into an exercise lover. It didn’t happen to me until my mid-40s. Tether balls used to scare the crap out of me, and now I actually own a medicine ball, for heaven’s sake! Miracles do happen.

    Which is not to say that your life is a hollow shell if you never get beyond enjoyable bike rides. Rock on!

  22. I know.
    I LOVE kim.

    Gotta say again that she expresses so eloquently what *so* many feel.

    Hence the long but you’ll thank me….

  23. oh, I remember the Presidential Physical Fitness Test – I refused to run because I didn’t want to ruin my well-sprayed bangs, and I always got 0.0 seconds on the pull-ups section.

    “A bald and beefy little black man” – that’s classic.

  26. How is it there were OH so many of us hating physical activity back then and yet we all felt so alone in it?? She hit the nail on the head for me with the childhood memories of the dreaded “test” — but with my stubby legs I would never in a million years have called the long jump easy!! You may as well have been asking me to jump from Massaschusetts to Kansas — that would have been as likely as me making it to the stupid line I was supposed to reach! And the shuttle run? Oh please. Coordination AND running?? ugh.

    That said, somehow 30-some years later I am an avid runner and love (most) every step of it!!

    Beautiful writing! Thank you for sharing!!

  27. What a fantastic story! Kim is an amazing writer and I am so glad she shared her story with us! She pretty much summed up my entire childhood experience with organized sports. Even after all these years, it is reassuring to know that others suffered as I did in those years:)

    Magnificently done! Thank you Kim!

  29. Dear Kim,
    Will you take up fencing with me so we can be Princess Bride-esque together?

    I hated gym class too. And I’ve always been afraid of that darn ball for volleyball, baseball, etc.
    Love this story.
    And your writing.
    Especially allany references to the Princess Bride:)

  32. Kim, that was beautiful. You’re a wonderful writer.

    I’m really sorry about the bad personal trainer experience; I promise we’re all not that way! 😉

    AND, I’m even more glad that you found something that you like to do that’s active. Life is too short for torture at the gym!

  33. I’m up, I’m up! But no biking for me today, I’ve got cramps.

    It has already made my day to see so many people reading me and taking the time to leave such lovely comments. I can’t thank you enough!

    dragonmamma, you give me hope!

    What I need now is a nice big cushy bike seat. I feel like I COULD ride so much longer, if it wasn’t for my butt hurting so bad. I can’t say how many mornings I’ve been out on the bike and headed home long before I really wanted to, just because my rear end felt like it was battered and bruised (and not in a who’s-been-a-naughty-kitten-now kind of way, either.) Why are the comfiest bicycle seats so terribly expensive? Harumph!

  34. OMG Sagan, totally. I even want to take that class in Manhattan where they teach you to fence with light sabers all Jedi-like. I’ve already got the home-sewn Jedi wardrobe ready to go!

  35. I can so relate. My Mom was always kicking us outside to play, when all I wanted to do was sit and read a book or sketch. I hated phys-ed – running laps and team sports were not fun, those things were torture to me. In Canada we had the Canada Fitness Tests, which sound like pretty much the same thing and I was never very good at it either. I wasn’t overweight – it’s just that the typical gym class activities were not my thing. I always thought I hated exercise.

    As an adult I discovered things that I actually like to do. I still have zero interest in team sports, but I like a whole lot of other things. I think it’s a shame that phys-ed classes don’t offer a wider variety of activities so that kids can realize there are many different ways to be active & fit.

  36. Thanks to Kim for brilliantly recapturing a few snaps of childhood for me. The Little House on the Prairie fantasy was spot on.

    I have always thought I was blessed to be a chubby, head-in-a-book, phys ed-fearing kid because I developed an imagination that gets me through my ridiculously long runs! Kim, I guarantee that if you’re like me you will come to feel the joy in movement because you have that other thing– the blissful imagination to coast upon. No amount of inherent ability or years of childhood athleticism can trump that!

  37. Brilliant post, just brilliant!!

    Oh Sweet Mother of Gouda, the Presidential Fitness Test -the reason for my most emabarrassing moment in junior high. We had to do X amount of sit ups in X amount of time. You know what situps are good for? Gaseous explosions, that’s what. In a room of twenty girls, I was the one who tooted with every “up”. My partner was laughing so hard she couldn’t even hold my feet while I struggled to clinched my cheeks whilst hoisting my shoulders to my knees. Even my gym teacher laughed. *sigh* Good times, good times.

  38. Excellent post. I totally suffer from all-or-nothing syndrom with regard to exercise…and this is the reminder I need that it doesn’t have to be that way.

  39. i think i first saw a kim guest post over at the weighting game and once again, i’m astounded at her beautiful writing. thanks for this, mizfit!

    oh and kim? they do sell gel/padded seat covers that are a bit less expensive than buying a totally new seat. 🙂

  40. Great post.

    I hope to some day find my love – or at least something I don’t hate. I do it because I should but I hate every minute of it. Actually right now I don’t do because I don’t have the energy but I really need to get rid of this baby weight now. I tell myself it would give me more energy but when completely lacking any energy it is hard to make myself believe that expending some will bring me more.

  41. but it *will*, michelle.
    (She thumbtypes knowing she can say that since michelle is a mamablogger she was fortunate enough to meet in PERSON & now call friend)

    So glad you all love the post as I do.
    When I opened it I thought ‘oooh I may need to trim this a smidge’

    Then I read it.

    And left it alone.

  43. Just echoing all the others: Great post! I’ve never seen Kim’s blog before, but I will follow it now.

    As someone who lost a front tooth to softball in 7th grade (daydreaming out there in the field) and later suffered a nasty concussion from lacrosse, I could so relate to Kim’s story. Like with her biking, I’m glad I found running!

  44. what a fabulous post!! Thank you for sending me Kim’s way!!

    this was perfect to read this morning after braving a pilates class where i couldnt really do most of the moves. Or, it felt that way.
    but secretely, i may have really liked it anyway;) thanks again mizfit!
    xo

  45. This is a great post, I like Kim’s style of writing, but I am really glad I clicked on the link above, because I love her essays! “Read my Hips” really hit home for me.
    clickhere

    Especially this quote:

    “Once upon a time, food was fuel for my body and a pleasure to my senses. But it became so much more. Now it’s supercharged with meaning and burdened with responsibilities it never signed up for.”

    When’s the book coming out?!! :o)

  46. Love this post! While I keep remembering that I was active as a child/ young adult. I also remember that I sucked at PE and hated it. And I never thought of myself as active or an exerciser.

    Approaching the 2 year anniversary of my first workout this time. It was 20 minutes and killed me. I slept for 2 hours afterward, and was sore for 2 days. But I had paid for more sessions, and I came back. And the whole experience changes my life.

    Still don’t like playing ball-based sports or running…

  48. Wow – fabulous post Kim! I HATED HATED HATED the Presidential Fitness Crap as I could never meet the minimum standards. I also have some pretty strong feelings for whoever the a**hole was that invented Dodgeball. And don’t even get me started on softball in gym class! Those PE teachers that didn’t think being picked last EVERY SINGLE TIME (while I stood there in my gym class uniform, no less) had a negative affect on my self-esteem? Um…big ol’ WRONG! (deep breath)

    Needless to say, I’m happy that Kim crawled into my brain for the material to write this post. Now please get out.

  49. Hey, Miz! Dropping you a quick note to let you know I’ve majorly and temporarily dropped the price of SuperNoots from $34.95 to $24.95. Two reasons… getting ready to reorder new charts with a few changes and quite frankly, people need a freakin’ financial break right now anywhere they can get it.

    SO, I’m telling you this in case any of your fabulous readers are in need or really want one. So, mention as you will 🙂

    All for now… oh, and Kim is fabulous, what a great story!! I skimmed it at first, and her writing style and story actually made me go back to the top and slowly read it again. She’s adorable.

    Have a great rest of the week!!

  50. In case you have no idea about the ‘noots (please to insert joke here along the lines of living under a rock and please to make it far funnier than the Miz feels today) CLICK HERE and read about her amazing product & generous giveaway Lori did for the Bumbling Band.

    M.

  52. Great story! I think Kim hit the nail on the head. Movement and exercise is about finding what make you happy. For some that’s leisurely bike rides and walks. For other, running marathons. And for still others, pumping iron until they feel the burn. But all forms of exercise are valid and finding the one that works for you is the key!

  53. First, yelling at MizFit to go to cross-training, because this duty was asked of me 😉

    Second, love the post! Long, outdoor cardio is the introspective person’s dream exercise. I totally relate, and also have a ball phobia….still.

  54. Will you all come to New Jersey and make me work out with you?

    UM, EXCUSE ME KIM?!

    do NOT make me start comment moderation up in herre.

    I thought you were moving to Texas so I could be yer cheertasker & you could be my babysitter!

    Your room is all ready AND it has an exercise bike 😉

    M.

  55. That post didn’t seem long at all! I got totally absorbed in it and felt like I was the main character – even though I’ve always liked movement and being outdoors. Thank you MizFit for using your tenacity to bring this fab writer to all of us, and of course thank you Kim for the great, relatable story!

  56. Miz,

    As you said in your comment reply (#22), ” she expresses so eloquently what *so* many feel”.

    What a fantastic read. Nothing could distract me. I felt like I was reading about my own childhood. I could almost hear my mothers’ voice urging me to go get some fresh air too.

    Thank you for that!

  57. Loved it! Like the rest of the readers, it was a quick read because she is so entertaining. Off to read some more of her stuff… wait, I’m supposed to be running right now…run, then come back to read more. 😉

  59. I love this post. I hated the Presidential Fitness Test. How does the number of sit-ups I do relate to my GPA? Thanks for stopping by my blog. I appreciate the comments! I’ve subscribed to your site now! 🙂

  60. Great article! I read this and the “Read My Hips” article another commenter recommended. I think she’s so right…it’s not going to work until you find something you love to do, or at least learn to love. Oh, and the working up to it part. I always thought you had to jump in and work like crazy from the get-go, and it always seemed impossible. Thank goodness for the internet, though, where I found some doable training programs to help me build my endurance.

    And don’t get me started on the President’s Physical Fitness thing…ugh! That was definitely one of the joy killers.

  62. I ride with my dog and call it ‘bliss on a bike.’ But my dog helps pull me. I probably can’t call it exercise, but I can call it joy!

  63. I think Kim brings up a really cool point about self-definition. The unathletic and uber-athletic are equally guilty of it (I know ’cause I’ve been both). And I think it’s worse for women than for men.

    Because, in western society, women can never simply *be.* We have to *be* . . . something. I’ve been Jamie the “intellectual”; Jamie the “pianist”; Jamie the “one who left high school early.” And always, that’s how I defined myself–just with the one word.

    And once we define ourselves within those limitations, it’s hard to break out of them. Even when I got burnt out with the whole piano thing, I felt obligated to keep doing it, because it’s who I was. And I’m still a pianist, but it’s not all of who I am.

    Kudos to you, Kim, on breaking the mold and setting such a great example for all the rest of us. You are Kim the Kim, not Kim the “unathletic one.”

    Also? If you end up in a Nike commercial, I might actually start buying that stuff again.

  64. Very enjoyable read. I like her writing a lot. As a non-sports girl/brainiac myself (I was a straight A student in High School and didn’t play one sport after 6th grade), I could identify with a lot in her story.

    It’s still constantly amazing to me that at age 37, I became a runner. I’m living proof that it’s never too late to become an athlete!

  66. great post, writing and storytelling. Thanks for the reminder about the Presidential Test. I’m a PE teacher and yes….we are training for the “standards testing”. With you in mind I will make it more interesting, less competitive and hide the exercise part 🙂

  67. Oh heavens, this is entirely what I needed to read. I’ve really written off whatever hope I had of my ever being able to establish any kind of fitness routine, and this helped me realise that I’d be better served just trying to incorporate exercise in to my life…perhaps if it was a natural progression I might find something that could be a source of joy rather than a constant pressure.

    I, btw, managed to avoid every gym class for my last two yrs of school, such was my genius, and, you know, hatred of said.

  68. What an absolutely fabulous post, both in writing style and content. I look forward to reading more from Kim!

  69. This is great! I was that kid. Why did I not know more girls like Kim, when I was growing up? (I could have turned her on to the joys of solitary bike riding/exploring, and we could’ve commiserated over “ball shyness.” Shoot, I was nearsighted – I wasn’t “ball shy,” I just couldn’t see the darned thing!)

  70. LOVED this post. I also was that kid. DEFINITELY off to check out Kim’s blog. Thank you, Miz, for always bringing us great info like this!

  71. Wow, what a great post–so well-written. I was sort of that kid as well, though I kept trying sport after sport in hopes I would miraculously become an athlete. I had a brother (who was a respectable 6’4″) who kept trying to groom me to be a great basketball player. It didn’t work and I topped out at 5’5″ anyway. I didn’t enjoy exercise until I started doing step aerobics, of all the crazy things. Sadly my orthopedic surgeon says that’s the worst thing I can do for my knees. Ugh.

  72. Kim, I love, love, love you for writing this!! I can soooo relate to you!! I am couch potato and exercise is always a chore for me. I have the lazy-boy of bicycles… a recliner stationary bike… now maybe I’d use it if I could only get the laundry pile off of it!

    Kim, I just love the way you write. You really know how to reach out and touch the reader. I absolutely understand you, and even if we were strangers, your writing makes me feel like you would understand me too. I’m so looking forward to more of your stories. xoxo

    ps – I loved Kathy’s cameo too… I could just picture it! LOL!!

  73. i know i’m late on this, but i really really really loved this post! i really think it’s finding the things that bring you joy, that may come along with some exercise (like a liesurely walk in the woods) that are so important!

  75. This was one of my favorite posts ever. As a coach I need to remember that not all kids are playing because they want to. Some kids are playing because a parent (or similar status adult) is telling them they have to.

  76. Im loving this article, maybe I can relate the article to myself though. When I was in middle school I had no interest in PE because I was fat. Even my first fitness experience started because of broken hearted.

    Anyway, thanks Mizfit for your comment. I made new change.

  77. I had the exact same beginning conversation with a personal trainer, but in my case he ROCKS! He watches me like a hawk, monitors my heart rate, and pushes me to the next level only when he knows I’m ready. I’m loving the gym now, but am also continuing to try different kinds of exercise – biking, swimming, etc.

    Never give up. Keep trying until you find what works for you.

  79. Great post! It definitely is all about finding something you LIKE to do- though I do have a somewhat bossy boot camp instructor making me do stuff I wouldn’t have though of doing right now. 😛 Thanks for the fun reading.

Trackbacks

  1. […] I found this post deep in the archives of MizFit’s blog, and I’m so glad I did! It gave me tons of inspiration this week during week 1 of my c25k training. And (bonus) its a guest post written by Kim Brittingham who is beyond wonderful. The post is about how she was an Exercise-Hater that became an Exercise Lover. […]

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