COLUMN: I’ll start exercising after my pizza

I hate mirrors. Pictures too.

It’s not because I’m scared to look in the mirror one day and find I love myself – check – it’s because both mirrors and pictures are incessant reminders of just how out of shape I am.

I know I’m out of shape in much the same way students procrastinate their homework. They know they should do it and it would be good for them, but still it doesn’t motivate them to open a book.

My motivation to exercise is on about the same level, and whenever I look into a mirror, a version of me strangely resembling a bloated Picasso painting stares me full on in the face. My head looks normal, but my stomach is disproportional and my butt, well, I don’t even want to go into that.

So, motivated – against my better judgment – to do something about it, I often fall into these fits of exercise hysteria. It must be funny to someone watching me do this.

I run into my bedroom, pull on my basketball shorts and a T-shirt and immediately drop to the floor to do 50 push-ups.

You know how in the Bible it talks about the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak? I’m pretty sure that scripture came about off a vision of watching me exercise. I always go into it with a lot of energy and passion, convinced that if I can do enough push-ups and sit-ups in the next 20 minutes, I can somehow make the Picasso-me go back to the way I was before. The problem is, I have a motto I like to stick to and it gets in the way: If it hurts, don’t do it.

After 10 push-ups, my body starts yelling at my brain. Sometimes I can even hear the conversation.

Body: “Are you done fooling yourself yet? You do this every time and nothing gets accomplished except you feeling miserable about yourself, and then you go out and buy a cheeseburger to console yourself. Oh, and by the way, this really hurts so if you could knock it off, I’d sure appreciate it.”

Brain: “No, must not listen. I have to keep exercising. Push-ups are good, 10, 11 … 12 … OK, so who’s up for a McDonald’s run?”

After wriggling on the floor for 10 or 15 minutes, I usually start to feel pretty good about myself. My muscles hurt, which I’ve heard is a good sign, and while I’m slightly out of breath, I feel really energized. I rush back to the mirror to take a gander, and immediately I’m crushed. I look exactly the same except now I have sweat dripping down my face and I’m 15 minutes older. Hardly worth the effort.

I don’t know why I expect myself to suddenly be more fit, but I do. I’m not alone in this either. It seems to be a trend our society has fallen into. We turn on the TV and watch all these gorgeous women with tightly toned bodies and men with biceps the size of a Mack truck and think to ourselves, “Gee, I wish I looked like that.”

But after the image moves off the beautiful stars and we get back to reality, we realize those people probably have expensive personal trainers that have magical powers to instantly make celebrities in peak physical condition, and we suddenly feel better about ourselves. Wait, you mean only I think that?

Most people seem to think they don’t have the resources and time to devote to becoming fit like celebrities. But then many of those same stars have to come along and make life complicated again by appearing on the next TV commercial.

Suddenly a very ripped Billy Blanks appears on the screen, looking like he could wrestle an alligator with his bare hands and win. He gives a winsome smile and talks about how fit he is and how he has developed a new fitness program just for you. He slowly walks across the screen, pausing every few seconds to flex, while listing his famous clientele and tells you that you too can be just like Carmen Electra, Wayne Gretzky or Shaquille O’Neal.

I don’t know about you, but the last time I looked, Shaq looked strong enough to crush an oil barrel on his forehead. With marketing like this, who wouldn’t be instantly hooked on this? Blanks’ new fitness program is the 58th installment of Tae Bo: Getting Fit for Fatties. All you have to do is pick up the phone, order the tape and work out to the video a certain amount of times each week, and you’ll transform into a lean, mean, fat-grilling machine. Oh wait, I think that’s a different infomercial.

But after watching the video a maximum of five times and never being able to successfully complete a workout with the intensity and excitement of Blanks, you give up and look for something else. Luckily there are tons of options out there.

If you’ve ever walked down the fitness aisle of a sporting goods store, you’ve seen the wide variety of exercise equipment. If you’re like me, you’ve also purchased half the stuff.

I go through exercise equipment phases faster than just about anybody alive. I think it all started back in high school when I decided to buy a weight bench. Once that got old, I moved through the thigh master, the oversized elastic bands, the speedometer on the bike, the ab roller and even a weighted jump rope.

One by one these methods fail, and I never end up losing weight. In fact, the one successful time I lost weight in my life came not as a result of exercise but careful dieting as I cut all excess sugar out of my diet. In nine months I lost 45 pounds. Maybe it’s because of that experience that I’m no fan of exercise. Or maybe it’s because it hurts.

Either way, the bottom line with exercising is it takes time. Celebrities look really good because they eat very little and exercise a lot. There has to be a time commitment involved, and right now my biggest commitment is with the slice of pizza I’m about to eat.

Seth Hawkins is a junior in public relations. If you see a fat kid running down the street, rest assured it’s not him because he doesn’t believe in running. Comments and questions can be sent to him at seth.h@aggiemail.usu.edu.