A couple of weeks ago I decided that I was tired of feeling like a lazy chunker who sits at home all day. I wasn't satisfied with how my body looked and I've been self-conscious about my stomach pudge for years. In high school and through most of college, I had washboard abs simply from strict breathing exercises in choir and theatre, and body movement techniques and yoga. I had a smaller frame even after puberty, and I didn't really eat a lot. I wasn't anorexic, but I was just a bit of a picky eater and I mostly ate on a schedule because of school and extra-curricular activities. Then my depression and anxiety spiraled out of control after my sophomore year of college. I would go through phases where I would deliberately go long hours without eating until my blood sugar got super low that I would nearly pass out. Then I would just binge on anything and everything, mostly carbs. I didn't eat a lot of protein. My diet consisted of sandwiches, pizza, rice, ice cream, and lots and lots of alcohol. I didn't exercise except for walking about 3 blocks to work or classes. I felt horrible about myself. I was angry all the time. Angry at myself, angry at the world, angry angry angry.
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| You know, like this. |
Often, I would wake up in the morning and not feel like going to class. I would lie in bed hitting the snooze button and restlessly snoozing trying to decided whether or not to go to class. More often than not, the inner demons won and I would either sleep in and miss class entirely or I would convince myself that I was sick and needed to stay home. Then a dirty lying guilt spiral would happen. I would feel horrible. I felt guilty that I disappointed my professor(s) by missing class. I felt like I disappointed my parents by not trying harder. I felt disappointed in myself for being terrible at everything.
Short story long, I gained a gross amount of weight my last year of college. At my heaviest in high school, I weighed around 105 pounds. By the time I left college, at my heaviest, I tipped the scales at 145 pounds. Blech. I was pushing the "normal weight" on the BMI scale big time. Through improving my diet and a battle with severe gross-mouth-won't-let-you-eat-itis last year, I lost enough weight that I no longer felt super chunky and gross. But I decided recently that that was not enough. I wanted to be more fit. Enter my new daily workout: the Just Dance franchise on the Wii.
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| Don't judge me, it's fun. |
You may laugh, but it's worked really well for me; I've lost 4 pounds so far, I feel like I have more energy, I feel like I have better stamina, and I just feel better in general. I totally recommend it for anyone (especially other gamers) who want to get in better shape but have serious gym anxiety like me. Short-story-long: I do my Wii workout for about 45-60 minutes every day, and I've been feeling great. Unfortunately, the crazy lady who lives downstairs is not so happy.
If you are unfamiliar with the Just Dance franchise, it is very different than DDR in that there is no dance pad that you stomp on; it's mostly moving your arms and upper body, so, you can play it while just standing in place. To reiterate: no stomping is involved. No jumping has to be involved. Very little foot movement is involved. In fact, when I play it, I tend to just stand in place with my feet shoulder-width apart and move my feet as little as possible since we have limited space in our living area. Well, apparently this is just too damn much for crazy train downstairs. My dancing for an hour each day around noon bothers her to the extent that she feels the need to call our landlord to complain, instead of getting off her lazy ass and knocking on our door and being neighborly, asking, "Hey, the floorboards squeak too much, could you keep it down?"
(To which I would ever-so-politely inform her that it is the middle of the day and I am partaking in no illegal or noise-ordinance-violating activities and would she be ever so kind as to pull the stick out of her ass and go fuck herself with it? Kthxbai. But I'd at least be neighborly about it.)
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There should never be this much stress in an apartment when video games and fitness are involved, you guys. *Sigh* Four more months and we're out of this shit hole.
