I've always thought that fitness is not my thing. Over the past few years, I've had a love-hate relationship with the gym, and considered the three-times-a-week, two-hours-a-day (that already includes an hour of rest) visits already a serious workout. I've actually summed up, with conviction, that my body won't ever resemble that of a Greek god.
The excuse goes like this: first, my genetic build-up holds the fatso chromosomes-- it runs in the family. It is fairly evident in papa's humongous front porch, mama's unattractive muffin top and my kuya's prominently gigantic frame. Apparently, the butterball curse stopped on me-- my younger brother and sisters are lean and manageable. Second, I can't squeeze exercise in between my hectic schedule. Hectic best describes a gruesome sedentary job in the office, spending 95% of the time sitting in front of the computer. Not to mention that I work the graveyard shift (but no please, I am not complaining). Third, enrolling myself in a fitness program requires, along with the calories, cash to burn. I was contemplating if this wellness phase and all its supplementary expenses will ever be worth it.
The excuse goes like this: first, my genetic build-up holds the fatso chromosomes-- it runs in the family. It is fairly evident in papa's humongous front porch, mama's unattractive muffin top and my kuya's prominently gigantic frame. Apparently, the butterball curse stopped on me-- my younger brother and sisters are lean and manageable. Second, I can't squeeze exercise in between my hectic schedule. Hectic best describes a gruesome sedentary job in the office, spending 95% of the time sitting in front of the computer. Not to mention that I work the graveyard shift (but no please, I am not complaining). Third, enrolling myself in a fitness program requires, along with the calories, cash to burn. I was contemplating if this wellness phase and all its supplementary expenses will ever be worth it.
