You know those people who spend hours at the gym every day and claim they LOVE to exercise? I don’t buy it. I’m convinced they’re faking—or aliens.
Me, on the other hand— I’m normal. When it comes to exercise, I’d put myself someplace in the middle of the bell curve between Madonna and Kirstie Alley.
I know it’s good for my health. But I’d rather go shopping eat a Dove bar do almost anything to avoid going to the gym.
Lately it’s gotten worse. I make excuses. It’s raining. It’s too nice out. I went yesterday last week last month. I’ll go tomorrow next week next month.
The truth is: I. Just. Don’t. Like. It.
Even worse– I’m surrounded by aliens people who claim to love it. People who shouldn’t wouldn’t lie to me. Like my husband V— who runs 7 miles a day. My sister— who’s a personal trainer. My son— who’s worked out faithfully for years. My daughter— who’s training to run a marathon.
I still think they’re faking. And they aren’t very sympathetic to my excuses.
Only now it turns out I don’t need excuses. Science is on my side.
Awhile back I wrote a post about a cover story in TIME magazine, titled Why Exercise Won’t Make You Thin. It was life-changing to read the conclusion: “Physical activity….doesn’t always melt pounds—in fact, it can add them.”
Well, now I’ve read something even better.
Scientific studies indicate that there’s a hereditary component— there are people who enjoy exercise and people who don’t:
A recent study suggests that some people are graced with a genetic advantage when it comes to benefiting from and sticking to a rigorous exercise regime. (Read it for yourself).
So: in addition to being genetically pre-disposed to cancer and Alzheimer’s, the good news is: I’m missing the exercise gene.
Which adds another item to the list making me the polar opposite of V. We’re not blood- related so that explains it. I’m not sure how to explain my children.