Or, you know, still fat.

I hate diets. I hate exercising. I hate most kinds of physical exertion. When I was still in school, other people lived for P.E., while I prayed for it to miraculously go away. Out of the four required P.E. subjects we had to take in Ateneo, my favorite was P.E. 101, which was basically an afternoon class where we sat in an airconditioned classroom and looked at Powerpoint slides, listening patiently at the lecturer’s recycled stories.

So, you know, all these preferences that come naturally to me? Not really agreeable when one of my Greatest Wishes In Life is to have a hot bod. Call me shallow, but I just want my clothes to fit better. Late last year, I tried going to the gym (I obviously quit). Earlier this year, I tried Jillian Michaels’ 30-Day Shred, which I quit before I even reached Level 2. On more than one occasion, I joined in on my church’s church-wide fasting program, with the hidden agenda of shedding a couple of pounds. Shameless, I know.

When I contracted dengue fever last week, I lost between 4-6 lbs. All of which I just gained back. Now, I have come to realize that if I want to get rid of my 4-year-old Food Baby, I am going to have to put some work into it. I would enlist the help of Nerd Fitness Master, John Green, using his new video, Fitness For Nerds. But I think I’m going to try and run on the treadmill for a little while. And then maybe do a little push-ups, et cetera.

Every time I think about exercising, I think of that hypothetical period as the Worst Twenty Minutes Of My Life, and then I end up just eating peanut m&m’s (which is blatantly counter-productive) or reading or going on Tumblr. I mean, I just really want my jeans to fit.

And, you know, if I can’t even spare twenty minutes of my day—which, I learned from church, is like a little over 1% of my day—then, I deserve to have ill-fitting jeans. If, at one point in the middle of my transformation, I am tempted to tap-out, then I will at least have this blog entry to look back on and remind myself that I have declared to the Internet my intentions of being at least a little bit thinner by the end of September. And then, I will suck it up and run on the treadmill, with images of my own fat, all anthropomorphic, running after me, like that one episode of Doctor Who with the adiposians.