The June Solstice occurred this past Sunday, signaling summer’s official arrival.
What does this mean? It’s time to hit the beach.
It’s time for my pale-yellow skin to get some sun so that it can turn golden brown (maybe more like orange-brown). It’s time to take full advantage of the beaches that LA and Orange County have to offer.
Actually, the beaches here are not that great. They are dirty. The water’s cold. And there are way too many people out here. That Baywatch is full of shit.
Also, I have a bit too much pale-yellow skin on my body at the moment.
Most of us experienced Freshman 15. We go off to college and find ourselves in full control of our dietary habits for the first time, and what do we encounter? Buffet-style cafeteria food. Back in my freshman year, nutrition was not at the forefront of society’s consciousness like it is today. Carbs wasn’t a bad word, and shoving copious amounts of protein down our throats was reserved for weightlifters.
I sure miss my eighteen-year-old metabolism. Eating pizza and chili dogs at 2 AM was no problem at all. Now, if I eat a piece of bread after 10, my ass will be jiggling for a week and I’ll be gassy as hell when I go to work the next day. It’s okay though, I’m a professional crop-duster.
Emily and I have been living together for a little over 8 months now, and I’ve experienced another similar phenomenon – Relationship 15. Full disclosure – my diet as a single bachelor was bland and boring – Chipotle salads, teriyaki chicken bowls, and cereal. If my diet were a person, he would’ve been every character ever played by Ben Stein (Bueller… Bueller). But it got the job done, I was able to maintain a healthy weight this way.
Now that Emily’s around, she’s been cooking some great meals – pasta, stir fry, Asian noodle dishes, etc. They taste great and all, but damn I don’t remember these pants ever being this tight. I didn’t notice until a few months ago when I hit the scale and it read 170. Holy shit – I am going through my fat-Elvis phase. Given that I’m 5’9″, this means I am technically nearing the overweight category.
It was also hard to notice because Emily never gains weight. She’s an ectomorph – she can shit off pounds without having to do cardio. I am more of a mesomorph, which means that while she’s freaking out over gaining one pound, I’ll be sitting over here marveling at how I managed to gain fifteen pounds since we moved in together.
I guess the beers and sodas aren’t helping either.
Needless to say, beach season is not off to an ideal start.
Part of me is saying that I shouldn’t care at all about this weight gain. I can still fit in all my clothes, even though it’s getting a more snug by the day. I mean, who do I need to impress, anyway? We need to learn to love ourselves and feel proud of our bodies no matter what, right?
The great thing about fitness and getting in shape is how poignant of a metaphor it is for life. What we get is what we put in. No pain, no gain. No shortcuts. Personally, being content at 170 pounds would feel like settling for less. I’m looking at getting into shape as a good challenge of discipline and willpower. If we push ourselves, I think we’d be surprised at how much we can accomplish, not only in fitness, but life in general.
It’s good to have goals, specific ones at that. We can all sit around and say we want to lose weight and get in shape, but what does that mean exactly? Setting targets and specific marks will sharpen our direction and give us greater drive.
With that said, I’m going to shoot for a weight of 155 by August. Hopefully, my body shape will resemble more like a yellow Mike & Ike and less like a Lemondrop.
Feel free to share any summer fitness goals. Writing them down and sharing them with the world will give you greater motivation to do the damn thing.