In case you're just
joining us after a long absence away from “A Pop Culture Addict's
Guide To Life”, you're just in time to witness the second
installment of “Whatever Wednesday”. Previously known as
“All-Request Wednesday”. Previously known as “The Wednesday
Gift Shop”. Previously known as “Across The Pond and Beyond
Wednesdays”.
Yep, as you can see,
Wednesdays have always been a point of frustration for this blogger.
So for Wednesdays, I
thought that I would leave it up to fate to choose my topic of
discussion.
I managed to find an old
“Clue” board game and grabbed all of the different coloured
character cards from the game. I then assigned each card one of the
theme days that you might see later on in the week. To recap, here's
the character cards and the theme days that they represent.
MISS
SCARLET: Sunday Jukebox
COLONEL
MUSTARD: Monday Matinee
MRS.
WHITE: Saturday Smorgasbord
(weeks 3-5)
MR.
GREEN: Saturday Smorgasbord
(weeks 1-2)
MRS.
PEACOCK: Friday Night in the
TV Guide
PROFESSOR
PLUM: Thursday Diary
So, I
have all of the cards inside of a plastic bag, and I will now draw
one at random.
Looks
like today is a Professor Plum
kind of day. So, this week, I'll be doing a Wednesday Diary entry in
addition to a Thursday Diary entry. But that's cool. I have plenty
to talk about.
So,
what will I be talking about in the first of two diary entries?
Well, I've decided to make this a 2-parter. Part 2 will begin
tomorrow, but here's Part 1 for you. It will set up the story for
tomorrow.
September
18, 2013
I
have to come clean to all of you reading this right now. I've had
kind of a love-hate relationship with physical activity.
I'm
not exactly sure where this volatile relationship started, but when I
was a child, I was not exactly the most active person out
there...which probably might explain why I ballooned up to over 300
pounds by the time I was in high school. But when it came to
physical activity, I really found it a bother to even try getting
healthy. I kind of laughed it off in a sense.
Now,
before you hang that necklace with the scarlet “L” on it (the “L”
standing for laziness) around my neck, I just want to make a few
things clear.
Firstly,
I was a kid who suffered from childhood asthma to the point where I
was hospitalized for a severe attack when I was seven, and which
forced me to miss approximately eighteen days of school throughout
the fifth grade. Trying to keep up to the other kids in the class
was extremely hard for me back then because I was always winded and
out of breath. I just could not do it.
Secondly,
I have already expressed my dislike of physical education classes in
both elementary and high school. I hated the fact that my teachers
would only grade me on athletic ability instead of the effort I gave
in class. It wasn't fair that kids who hardly even tried in class
received a better grade than I did.
And
lastly, I was someone who try as he might was never skilled in any
sport. I couldn't dunk a basketball into a basket, I couldn't kick a
soccer ball into a net, and when I tried to hit a baseball with a
bat, I ended up nearly breaking my nose in the ninth grade.
You
want to know what all of those things are? They're excuses.
Of
course as a child who was tired of getting picked on by classmates
and teachers about his lack of athletic ability, I never saw it that
way. But now that I am an adult now and look back at that time, I
can see why I was such a poor student in gym class.
I
mean, sure, my asthma did cause me a whole lot of childhood health
problems which affected my stamina in gym class. That was something
that I couldn't change back then. I just sort of learned to adapt to
having it. Now I'm at the point where it is a non-issue and I have a
better grasp at controlling my breathing to the point where I am no
longer winded. I suppose if I really wanted to, I could have done
some exercises that would have improved my breathing abilities so I
didn't tire out in gym class all the time.
And
when it came down to my grades in physical education classes, I have
to say that yes, it was frustrating to be graded down by my teachers.
But given how much grief I got over my athletic ability (or lack
thereof), I guess it got to the point where I simply stopped caring.
I even went out of my way to get out of doing activities by
pretending that I didn't know how to do them.
As
for my athletic ability? Well, I still suck at sports. I make no
apologies for that. I don't even think I know how to toss a football
correctly. I still don't know how to use a skipping rope. And,
don't even get me started on hula hoops!
I
guess what I'm trying to say is that, yes, gym class was rough. Gym
class was terrible. Gym class probably did more harm to my
self-worth than any other class in school – and that is
unfortunate, given that gym class was supposed to teach a person how
to live a healthy, active lifestyle.
As
a result of my bad experiences in gym class, I decided that staying
active and getting exercise was not worth it. In gym class,
I asked for people to help me improve my skills, and I asked the
teachers to consider the fact that while I was not the best student
in class, I was trying. But instead, they completely ignored me and
left me behind to play with those stupid scooters while they focused
their attentions on the star athletes in the class. I seem to even
remember one instance in eighth grade where I was actually thrown out
of gym class for defending myself against the kids in my class who
were teasing me.
With
the attitudes that I was shown in those classes, it's not hard to see
why I turned my back on a healthy lifestyle. If a supposed “healthy
lifestyle” meant being harassed and made fun of by the students and
teachers in the class, my attitude was like “no thank you, please
pass the triple chocolate fudge ice cream and I'll just eat the whole
carton”.
Is
it any wonder why I spent the majority of my teenage years binge
eating?
And
you know something? When I look back on it, I think to myself that
when it came to all of the abuse that I took in gym class, I didn't
deserve it. I didn't deserve any of it. The more I look back on it,
if one person even so much as cared to help me learn and grow, and
taught me that getting active didn't mean being the best at
everything, it would have made all the difference in the world. My
elementary and high schools had this whole idea that “winning was
everything”. With the exception of my ninth grade gym teacher who
was absolutely fair and just in his grading and who actually took the
time to get to know me, the rest just walked away and focused on the
kids who actually could win the sports tournaments.
It
hurt. I won't lie.
It
really wasn't until the last couple of years that I decided to do a
complete turn around. I joined a competition at work in which the
goal was to lose weight, and I did extremely well. For the first
time since I was...well...a teenager, I actually felt great and
looked great.
And
then I had my gall bladder removed and I gained half of the weight
back as a side effect of the surgery, and went right back to being
self-conscious again. Not as bad as I used to be, mind you...but
still, there's a little inkling of doubt that I have about myself.
I
mean, I look at where I am now, and I've overcome a lot of obstacles
to get to this point.
But
yet, there's more that I could be doing to make sure that I have the
healthiest life possible...and yet, it's also the one thing that
causes me the most fear.
TO
BE CONTINUED 9/19/2013...
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