I don't know how to gym

I've always been skinny, having gotten my dad's genes.
I used to eat brownies, cake and cookies for breakfast, lunch and dinner and not even feel bad about myself. Well, not until my tummy started to hurt, not when the lbs started to rack up, because they didn't.
That is, until I turned 20.
It seems my 20s have a little surprise for me: a slower metabolism.

Gyms are, of course, the option everyone suggests. "Exercise! It's good for you!"

Well, the truth is, gyms scare me. I back out of going to the gym more times than I actually commit to going. But yesterday was my third time going to the gym in all of my four years at college. And it wasn't too pretty.


Leaving the house

My main concern before I left the house was do I eat beforehand?
I'm convinced that anything I eat, even a cracker, will just force its way back up my throat after a few running the track once. But I settled for an apple that I couldn't even finish.


Are these sneakers?

I know enough to wear breathable shorts and a loose tee to the gym, but sneakers are something strange to me. I've never owned sneakers before I was 21 (I always borrowed my friends').
Fun fact: my roommate owns over 10 pairs of running shoes.

I settled for these sneakers (if you can actually call them that).

I also decided to wear makeup (just eyeliner and mascara)...I don't know if that is a gym no-no or what....


Am I running right?

I feel like every one at the gym can tell that I'm a newbie, from the second I walk in. I feel eyes staring at me, but I convince myself its just because I'm so hot and naturally fit looking that they are jealous as I strut around the gym....right.
That mentality only lasts until I reach the track. My run can be compared to that of a baby giraffe.

I take small laps around the gym, looking at the overly complex-looking machines that I wouldn't even guess how to use.


How do I use this thing?

After running around the track three times and exiting with a bright red face, trying to recapture my breath, I take a small lap around the gym. Looking at the overly complex-looking machines with strings and wires and liftys and pulleys and bricks of weight, I am terrified.

I settle on to an elliptical machine and run through 7 exhausting minutes, my hardxcore music motivating me (barely)!

I cool down on the track, walking slowly, yet proud of myself for spending around 45 minutes at the gym without vomiting/dying.

 

Forever a Freshman

Senior. That word holds a lot of weight and a lot of expectations. Seniors are supposed to be wise and experienced and know the ins and outs of world around them.

But I don't.

Tomorrow is the beginning of the end.

Tomorrow I move back to my school, thus beginning my final year of college, making me a senior.

Although I am technically heading toward the "real world," I still feel like a child.
In many ways, I still feel like a freshman.

I'm still learning about myself and the world around me - how to act in certain situations, how to deal with certain personalities types, what I like and what I don't like.

I don't think that will ever go away, and I realized that that's a good thing. But for a while, I saw this as a bad thing. I felt almost like I hadn't grown up right because I didn't know some things that my roommate knew. But then I realized that no one knows everything, but everyone is learning every day.

Even though, I am going to be a senior in college, I will forever be a freshman.
I will always want to learn and discover and explore the areas within my mind and out in the world.
 

When the winds shift for the better

A professor once told me that once journalism gets into your blood, it doesn't leave.
At this point in my life, I couldn't agree more.

Ever since I was in high school, I thought I knew what I wanted to do with my life.
I wanted to be a copy editor. That was the one thing about my life that I was certain of.

I got through my first two years of college as a journalism major with the same goal, a goal that was intensified after winning the position of head copy editor for my school paper last year.

Spring semester of my junior year, my goal became less appealing.

I was on my way home from a class when I received a Twitter notification on my phone saying that my advisor had tweeted to me. When I saw what she had tweeted, my lips pulled back into a huge smile.
Ever since I started my junior year, I had been telling my adviser that I was very serious about finding an internship, specifically a copy editing one, of course. I had gotten a fall internship with a magazine that I wasn't too crazy about and was now ready to a step closer toward my ever-so-precious goal.

I guess my adviser remembered how eager I was to get a copy editing internship because her tweet letting me know that the local newspaper was looking for a copy editing internship, following by about a hundred exclamation points. I was so excited! I jumped on the opportunity as soon as I got home, hooked an interview that week and started my copy editing internship shortly after.
After a few weeks, I found myself not enjoying what I was doing at the internship.

Maybe it was the hours?
I was there from 6-10 p.m.
I had had two internships prior to this copy editing internship, and they both started in the morning, so the change of time was a bit different, even though I was used to working all through the night as a copy editor for the school paper.

Maybe it was the people?
There are only five people tops there when I'm there a couple nights out of the week. They are older and hardly talk to each other, not even to say "Bless you" when someone sneezes. To come from a work environment at the school paper that is loud, crazy and chaotic is the best and most organized way, to this dullness, is just a shock. A bad shock.

Maybe it was the reality of the situation?
Copy editors never get the spotlight. They are last ones to thank when things go right and the first ones to blame when things go wrong. I knew this and was fine with it, until my internship. I realized that as a college student and member of a school paper, I have a lot of freedom. Even though I am a copy editor for the school paper, I am still allowed to write articles and contribute in more ways than one. In the real world, I don't think those things are allowed. I feel very unsatisfied when I interned at the local paper. It made me realize that I don't think I could be okay with just editing.

Journalism is in my blood. I can't fight the urge to write and report.

While I was a bit upset at the sight of my long-loved goal diminishing, I am a strong believer of the saying "everything happens for a reason." I do believe that I had to experience what being a copy editor is really like in order to be ready for the next step in my career.

I don't know what the future holds, but I know I'll always be on the right track.