When I turned thirty, I didn’t want fitness to be a constant uphill battle. I wanted it to be something that I could maintain without too much effort. I also wanted to knock the fuck out of any zombies that might decide to pop up from the grave at some point in the future.
As a child, I was a musician with hyper-flexible joints. That meant that I sat out of a lot of gym classes, frequently hid my slings and casts under my sweater so the kids wouldn’t make fun of me for yet another injury, and spent quite a few hours in physical therapy. My parents were terrified that I’d hurt myself and end my potential musical career. As a product of all that, I ended up being a pretty lazy adult. I was never overweight, per se, but I certainly wasn’t athletic. Continue reading