This weekend John ran the Hapalua Half Marathon in Waikiki. He finished in 2 hours, 1 minute – an improvement over his last time, and was excellent considering that the course was pretty tough and it rained for most of that morning. His dedication to running got me thinking about my own exercise resolution.
I have received quite a number of emails from friends and family asking me about how my walking is going.
I deleted these emails I avoided answering these messages because I am embarrassed to say my commitment to get in shape is waning.
It’s true that we have been in beautiful tropical locations, and logically it should be motivating me to get out and walk around to see the sights. Fair enough, but temperature and humidity also need to be accounted for – especially in light of the admission that I am about to make:
I don’t like SWEAT – not on myself or anyone else, for that matter. When John ran the race in Florida, I waited with many other spectators around the finish line to cheer. The continuous stream of perspiration glazed athletes passing by made me want to vomit.
I try to avoid sweating at all costs. I have a high heat tolerance when I am sitting on a beach or patio, especially if there is a breeze – I will move into the shade if I get too warm. I am fine if I am not physically exerting myself – making exercise virtually impossible. This has always been true, but it’s not to say I have never perspired. On the farm, driving the old red grain truck without air-conditioning, I sweated like a pig – but I did not enjoy it.
More and more, I am noticing how often people casually ask about physical activity. I went into LuLuLemon to buy some new clothes and the sales clerk wanted to know what activities I would be participating in – they write it on the change room door along with your name – I said “reading“. John and I toured an RV park in Palm Desert, and the lady accompanying us interrogated me about what sports I played – golf? tennis? jogging? yoga? – I responded “none of the above“. Aversion to sweat does not seem to be an acceptable excuse for a lax physical activity level. So I have a fall back explanation – “I can’t exercise because of weak abdominal muscles caused by the caesarean section I had when giving birth to my daughter“. Then I quickly exit the conversation before the other person can ask how old my baby is – though 21 years is hardly enough time to recover from a c-section, if you ask me.