Let me preface this by saying that I have never considered myself to be skinny or anywhere near it. I’ve always had a “pouch,” and I struggled with self-esteem for a really long time. Somewhere around my 22nd birthday, I found myself at peace with my body and myself; I was skinny enough that I wasn’t embarrassed to wear a bathing suit or tight dress. I found confidence that I’d been lacking for a while. That lasted for about two years, until I put on a lot more weight than I’d like to admit (like 25 pounds), and found myself at a crossroads. I still consider myself confident, but it’s a little harder when you hate the way you look. Any time I mention that I’m trying to lose weight to someone, they suggest a certain workout or training circuit: “Why don’t you try running?” ‘I’ve tried this spinning class, you should come with me!” “I’m doing XYZ fitness plan, and it’s great!”

*Cue the resting bitch face*

Okay, cool. But here’s the thing: I hate working out. Like, I hate it with my whole being. I am lazy, chunky, and so with all my might. But, I find myself wishing I was as “fat” as I was when I thought I was “fat;” now, I’m somewhere beyond that in a limbo of self doubt and hatred. A few months ago, I was steadily going to the gym, using the elliptical, walking when I could, and doing various core workouts. Yet, I was gaining weight. Yeah, yeah, “muscle is heavier than fat,” but I wasn’t gaining any visible muscle either. I was so frustrated, then I got a new job with later hours and found myself making excuses to avoid the gym. I was too tired, I was hungry, I had other stuff to do. And just like that, I fell off the bandwagon. And I’m still writhing on the gravel road as the wagon continues on, full speed ahead.

But, I’m a girl that keeps my promises, and I foolishly promised my boyfriend that I’d run a 5k with him this coming weekend. Since I’m a girl of my word, I’m trying my best to run daily (as if I have a choice; I literally have five days to train), but I am struggling. So I sat myself down, like the planner that I am, and wrote down all of the reasons why I hate working out; this article is going to dispute those “reasons” (which are actually excuses.)

I have shin splints

Okay, this is true. I do have shin splints. But, luckily, there are things that can help combat those. There’s KT tape to hold yourself together while you run (this actually does help), and there are stretches to do. Shin splints hurt, but they’re not debilitating.

I have sport-induced asthma

Sometimes, my lungs hate me, especially when the pollen counts are high. Yet, I have an inhaler and I can use that. Sometimes, I’m sucking air and feel like my lungs are collapsing, but I can use my inhaler and work on breathing exercises to help me function while I work out. That doesn't really stop me from feeling like death (my face turns redder than a tomato and I still sometimes hyperventilate), but it helps.

I’m tired

I’m always tired. After work, I want to nap. Every day, no matter how much coffee I drink. But I’ve found that, while it’s always hard to get started working out (I sometimes literally cry. Literally.), I have a ton more energy after I get done. There’s some sort of science behind it, but I just say “gotta get those endorphins going!” and stop at that, because I’m a writer, not a scientist.

I don’t have time

Bullsh*t. It takes me approximately ten minutes to run a mile (or like, half run/half walk). It takes me longer to complain that I don’t want to work out than it actually takes me to work out. Ten minutes. That’s all it takes.

“I just can’t”

I use this one allllllll the time. When my boyfriend asks me if I want to run, and I say no, he asks why. And when I don’t have an actual reason, I call on my default “I just can’t today,” excuse. But, I can. And I should. And I’m working on the “I will,” part.

So, no more excuses for me, and if you find yourself in the same boat, hopefully no more excuses for you, either. Together, we can! Stay tuned for my fitness journey, or whatever it is kids are saying these days.