The First Day of Classes: Start Things Off with a Bang!

I got back to my college grind today and I began the semester gasping for breath at 6 AM. Don't worry, I ended up in that situation voluntarily; I was doing my daily morning workout. I decided to bundle up and head out in my knit cap and jogging tights even though it was 20 degrees Fahrenheit in Tallahassee this morning (gotta love that predictable Gulf weather).

I had made a promise to myself to get back into shape this year no matter what and I wasn't going back on it. Last semester my workout faded from daily to weekly to sporadically. You wouldn't have known it from looking at me - my freakish metabolism keeps everything I eat from going to my hips, or anywhere for that matter - but my increasing sloth was beginning to bother me. So there I was, huffing and puffing around FAMU Park (4 laps around the lake, 240 crunches, 5 pull-ups) to Japanese techno. I couldn't feel my hands when I staggered into the shower back at my apartment, but I had no regrets.

This may make me sound like a crazy person, but I agree with those exercise nuts who say working out is the best part of their day. Somewhere amid the chaos, as your muscles scream in protest and your lungs burst into flames while your body floods with lactic acid, there's an uncanny calm. An oasis of "this isn't so bad" in the sun-scorched sand dunes of fatigue-induced agony. There's also something exhilarating about pushing yourself; you're learning your limits and simultaneously expanding them further. And the sense of satisfaction when you spend the rest of the day around saner people who rose at a more reasonable hour is unparalleled. It's hard not to chuckle when I overhear people complaining about having to take the stairs.