Jump

I'm pretty much your quintessential bookish nerd. I read constantly. I got a degree in Computer Science. As an outgrowth of that degree I'm preternaturally pale and incredibly sensitive to natural light. I sneeze horribly whenever I walk outside, away from the precious glow of a computer screen. Hell, I even play the clarinet.

So, in general, I'm content to let others be physical; I'll stick to more mental tasks. This seems to be a very good idea, since I'm also incredibly clumsy (see: every thing I've ever done in my entire life).

In something of a contradiction, I lift weights all the time. This summer, the gym was my second, really smelly home. Not to say that my first home was really smelly.

I think my apartment smells nice.

I'm saying the gym was smelly.

. . .

Glad to have cleared that up.

Where was I? Right, so I lift, like, a lot.

By the end of last week, I was up to 156 pounds. That means I gained 16 pounds of muscle since May. I now weigh more than I ever have in my entire life. I am pretty excited about the whole thing, but I was thinking there would be more practical application to all this extra muscle. Because despite the fact that I can bench-press 190 pounds, I still get winded carrying my groceries from the truck to my apartment. And I live on the first floor. That's just sort of sad. And by "sort of sad", I mean "incredibly and pathetically sad."

Thus, it was decided that my next phase of exercise would be more cardiovascular in nature, so I don't drop dead trying to carry a dozen eggs 25 feet.

After careful consideration (which consisted of asking my friend Sean what he was doing to get in shape and then blatantly copying him) I took up jumping rope as the new, most efficient way to kill myself--wait, "to get some healthy exercise."

No ne'ermind, I was right the first time.

You may have forgotten this, (because the last time you jumped rope was in elementary school (and don't try to pretend otherwise, no one over the age of 11 jumps rope unless s/he plans on a career of boxing or PE teacher)) but jumping rope is fricking hard.

Not that understood this at the start. I was all "Well, I should start out easy, I'll only jump for 10 minutes."

[Scene: Jason's apartment, in his ginormous living room. He clears out an area big enough to jump in. After carefully ensuring that every damn window is completely blinded and the doors securely locked, he grabs his new jump rope.]

Jason: Alright, Jason, you can do this, no one's watching, even if you make a fool of yourself, no one will know. [begins to jump]
[30 seconds later]

Jason: Huff...Puff...Dang, this is hard. [continues jumping]
[Almost 2 minutes total elapsed time]

Jason: Wheeze...gasp...dear God.

[The jump rope catches on his leg, tangles up, Jason takes two hops forward and collapses into a heap on the ground, narrowly missing the television stand]

Jason [comes to, panting]: Very smooth. [checks the clock] Either I just passed out for exactly 24 hours, or I almost died from less than 2 minutes of rope jumping. [thinks] I'll just let this be one of life's eternal mysteries.

In other words, Jason continues to be foiled by even the simplest tasks in the world.

But I will not be deterred! I have continued to jump every day for the last three and am proud to report that I no longer fall over dead after 2 minutes. I still can't go past 2 minutes, but at least I don't require life support any more. At this rate, I calculate I will reach 10 minutes of continual jumping in roughly October 2009.

Sweet, no?