If you’re like me don’t worry, you’re probably not you like the concept of exercising, but you probably don’t really care for the actual practice. One of my goals over the past semester was to run every night. I know, you’re supposed to run in the morning… It worked out pretty well. I got to the point where I was running a mile per night. Just a nice little sprint before I went to bed. Then something happened. It got cold.
As your probably know, I’m from North Carolina. Most of the time, it’s nice and warm there. I’m going to school in Texas, so I figured that the weather would be nice and warm all of the time… right? No! It gets downright chilly here! Like… 5 degrees. Celsius, but still… Despite my Eskimo-like Michigan family, I am used to the amiable NC climate. So, as a result of this most undesirable change in temperature… I stopped running.
Cue Christmas break. Who runs during Christmas break? Obviously, I don’t.
Back to school… Ok, so here I am. Back in school. Ready for the semester. Easy course load. Time to run! This is where it gets bad. I realized something yesterday: I’m fat.
Relatively speaking, of course, but it is true. I gained like 15 pounds over Christmas break. That’s like.. 10% of my total body weight. Do the math and you can figure out how much I weigh. So the nice little run turned into that dreaded practice of a ruogalk. For those of you who don’t know what a ruogalk is, let’s move to basic phonetics and sound it out.
Ruogalk = Run/Jog/Walk. Be glad I’m not a linguist.
It starts out with a traditional run. You set out with a good pace, happy to be alive, then the weariness sets in. You slow to a jog, telling yourself that you’ll speed back up in a minute. Your feet start to rebel, then your legs, and finally, your lungs tell you to stop or they’re going to secede. In the interests of avoiding an internal civil war in your chest, you slow to a walk. Gradually, your lungs are placated and decide that a full-out conflict would require far too many resources. So, you begin to run again. By this time, you start to feel ok, then the process starts again. At least it can’t get any worse… right? That’s when your stomach joins the rebellion. The combined political-military negotiating power of your internal organs is now far too much for your brain to successfully weather this conflict. This is the first day. It gets better. Sometimes…
That’s when it gets windy. Don’t worry though, frostbite isn’t permanent–you die eventually.