Up until a year ago, I never exercised. Well—almost never. I played seasonal tennis all through middle school and high school, and I often took my dog for a walk, but other than that, I was pretty content sitting at my desk all day and lifting my English textbooks up and down.

Right after I finished my senior year of undergrad, though, I found myself living back at home for a short time while I transitioned between things. My dad had been trying to get me to do regular exercise for years to no effect. It was easy to ignore him while I was away at school, but when I was at home and he was right there it was almost impossible.

“Fine,” I said one day, completely out of irritation. “I’ll start exercising.”

Yeah, I should pretty much build a thank-you monument to my dad.

So here I am, one year later. Let’s talk about what has and hasn’t changed. Here’s what hasn’t: I still hate exercise with every fiber of my being. I dread it all day until I finally get it done. I am still not athletic, and I am still pretty awkward at any physical activity.

But here’s what has changed: almost everything. I had love handles before, and now I don’t. I might have gotten tired and puffed at the top of three flights of stairs a year ago, but there’s no way I would now. I had this annoying stick-out part of my stomach when I first started exercising, and now it’s gone. I have more energy. I have more exuberance. I have cravings for healthier food. Read More »