I’ve been trying to get back into working out (with varying levels of success) for almost three years. I hit my fitness prime in undergrad — I never turned into a star athlete, but I exercised daily, sometimes several times, and went to the gym at least 5 days a week, even if it meant only going there for a half an hour on my lunch break. Granted, I was a little obsessed with it — all of this fit-ness grew out of an unhealthy body image and an eating disorder that also saw its prime in my undergrad days. Even after my disordered eating balanced out a bit, I still exercised, and I still liked exercising, though, even if I wasn’t doing it constantly.
Near the end of grad school, though, I started gaining weight inexplicably, and no matter how much I exercised, my weight kept climbing, and then I tore a ligament in my leg from falling on the ice (thanks, Ohio!) and got plantar fasciitis in both of my feet (thanks, coffee shop floor tiles!), which pretty much made exercise impossible. Of course, the lack of exercise and the weight gain also made plantar fasciitis worse, which in turn led to even less exercise, and thus began the cycle of slothhood.
A year or so after grad school, I went through a devastating breakup (grad school kills all that is good) and lost 30 pounds…
