Funk

Sigh.

I’m having a tough time.

I’ve made myself walk thirty minutes each day after work.

I’ve only done it three times at the time of this writing but each time has been a miserable experience during and after.

What I want to know is: Where the hell are my endorphins?

I read up on it and obviously, not everyone gets a ‘high’ after exercise. Just reading the comments on one person asking if they were the only one who didn’t get that good, good feeling from exercise pissed me off.

Not the question, obviously. The question helped me feel less alone in my misery. But some of the responses…ugh! What a bunch of assholes.

Those people out there who advise: Exercise is awesome, it makes me feel so good! You just have to find the exercise that works for you. Find something you love and you'll WANT to exercise!!! Blech.

Whatever.

Walking ‘works’ for me because it’s free, I can do it right there at home. I don’t have to go anywhere, pay someone, blah blah blah.

But I don’t enjoy it. I don’t get some rush when I’m done.

In fact, I’ve been in a horrible mood each evening after I’ve walked. I am sad, angry, and disgusted with myself and the whole stupid world. As punishment for my crappy attitude, I don’t eat dinner after I’ve walked either. Which I know is stupid. I KNOW. No one has to tell me how stupid that is. I know.

But I do it anyway because I’m so mad at myself.

Then I read more of those stupid comments and get angrier and angrier.

One such comment:

“I hate exercise too, especially working out alone. But when I join group activities, I get such a rush.”

Oh, fuck you.

I hate exercising in a group even more than I hate exercising alone. I hate knowing people can see me, can hear my stupid breathing, can probably see me sweating and watch my blubber flap as I move. It’s just all so awful.

Let me just say that I know I’m a contrary bitch. I have issues with people telling me what to do, even if they’re just making a suggestion. For example, Tom bought a bunch of vegetables one day while I was at work. When I got home, after my walk, which is the WORST time to suggest anything to me, he pointed out that I could have one of the cucumbers with my dinner.

He suggested this because he knows I love cucumbers. I eat one every single day for lunch at work. He’s a great guy, right?

But, because I’m a beast, I refused. I didn’t say it to him, but in my head, I whined that I don’t like COLD cucumbers. The ones I eat every day at work are taken

Apparently, there is no pleasing me. I’m hateful and awful and exercise just makes me worse.

I need to fix this, me. But I don’t know how. (Can you hear the whine in those words? Ugh!)

For what it’s worth, as I sit here writing and feeling sorry for myself, I do plan to walk again this evening, even if it makes me miserable. I’d rather be thinner and miserable than as fat as I currently am and still miserable. So…there’s that.