Fail.

For the past week and a half, I've been making conscious efforts to be healthy. I have been carefully perusing nutrition labels, portioning my meals and drinking more water than usual. I've forced my dad to buy wheat instead of white, romaine instead of iceberg, fresh instead of canned.

Last week, I tried going for a run. I didn't even last 5 minutes before my lungs angrily refused to let me continue. Fail.

I rented a yoga video from my local library, which I loved but I sadly had to return in 3 days. Fail.


Since my internship is only 2 miles away (according to Google Maps), I figured I can walk it. Tried it once, thought I was going to die. Wanted to try it again but my co-workers refuse to see me walk and always offer a ride home I'm reluctant to deny. Fail.

My last hope was a bike. Amidst my Dad's jokes and laughter, I begged him to get me one. I explained that with this new "vehicle", he wouldn't have to pick me up or drop me off. It was a solution for the both of us: I get my exercise, his schedule receives freedom.

I got my baby-blue 6-speed Road Master yesterday. I test drove it around the block, fell in love.

This morning I rode to work, took only 20 minutes (five more minutes than what Google Maps suggested it would take). It was a smooth cruise.

Then it was time to go home. Prepared with my helmet, backpack, shades and iPod, I set out for the ride. The first incline I encountered was easy, I simply pushed my legs harder. They received a break as I glided down another incline, piece of cake. Then I came across another incline. This one was difficult.

Each pedal became harder and harder. My bike eventually slowed down to a stop. I took a breather. After a minute or so, I continued again, feeling refreshed and ready. But then the next incline was the death of me. I started feeling dizzy, out of breath. I took a swig of my water, felt nauseous. I got off and walked, defeated.

All of my enthusiasm evaporated into the humid air as I sadly walked home. And then like a miracle, I saw my Mom's Jeep heading toward me. She was worried and decided to look for me; she felt it too hot outside for me to be riding. She also knew how painful the bike seat was being to my bum, a lesson my Dad wanted me to learn since I didn't make it a priority to buy a more comfortable bike seat. This ride was so bad though; I didn't even feel the bruising ache from the saddle.

With all that said, I'm not sure if I'm riding my bike tomorrow. I'm out of shape.

Fail.