Jogging my way out of social obscurity: how Bowdoin got me healthy

Wrightly so: Wright '17 wishes Family Weekend jazz brunch music would underscore his life

This past Sunday, many students shared a final Family Weekend brunch in Thorne Dining Hall. It was a well-attended affair featuring smiling mothers and fathers, curious younger siblings and hustling masses searching for adequate seating.
Underscoring this excitement were the smooth and jazzy sounds of a talented group of student musicians. The music seemed to give coherence to all the buzzing and wandering individuals trying to squeeze into the lines, refill their drinks and find their way back to their hard-earned tables.
Jazz has always been the sort of music suited to lively environments and while Thorne is certainly no Cotton Club, I felt that nothing would have been more appropriate than to whip out a hefty cigar, light it, take a generous puff and recline while sipping every so often from my glass of (root) beer. Luckily, better judgment intervened, for there is no way I would have survived the resulting stares of parental disapproval.

Wrightly so: Taking applications for valentines, housing

That time of year most taxing on the heart has arrived once more. Throughout the semester hints and signals have traveled innocently back and forth, imaginary plans have been made, possible scenarios thought out. Most people are filled with either fear of rejection or fear of having to reject someone. People have grown weary of hearing their friends complain and have lost nearly all ability to tolerate such questions as “What am I going to do about this situation?” and “Should I go for it or do you think I’d be crazy to?” That’s right, the time has come to begin planning out next year’s living situation.
Although I am not entirely sure whether planning out living arrangements for next year so early in the spring semester is common among students not applying to live in a College House, I know that I have already begun to delve into the matter.
As a first year, I underestimated the complexity that choosing housing entails. In my mind, all that was required was to gather a group of people willing to live together. I did not consider that every person in that group would have their own, distinct preference.

Wrightly so

Jogging my way out of social obscurity: how Bowdoin got me healthy

This piece represents the opinion of the author:

Marcus Wright

Columnist

November 15, 2013

Until recently, I had not been one for exercise. I had not been one for any form of movement, really. There was little I enjoyed more than sitting around doing absolutely nothing. In fact, there is still nothing I enjoy more than doing nothing. However, I now force myself over to the Buck Center six out of seven evenings to, as the kids say, “Lift, bro.”

To be honest, lifting is not actually a part of my routine. I just said that because I wanted to be cool, and I should be ashamed of myself. Nonetheless, it is true that I have incorporated going to the gym into my daily routine.

Some days ago it came to me in a dream that I should get in shape. In the dream I saw someone with a wonderfully ripped torso and excellent calves standing in front of a mirror. Even in the dream I knew that person was certainly not me, but I couldn’t help wishing he was. The little green monster of envy began to get to me.

I thought about how the person in the mirror probably does not run out of breath climbing to the third floor of his dorm or putting on his shoes. I thought about how the phrase “shirts v. skins” has never caused him anxiety.

After a few more thoughts passed through my head I awoke. I sat up in bed determined to turn myself into the next Mr. Universe. Then I immediately lay back down and gave some serious thought to the issue.

While it was true that I ate mostly healthy foods (though eating heaps and heaps of healthy food in a single sitting was probably not the best thing to do), it was also true that I did not exercise and that I had only myself to blame for my lack of stunning abs and calves.

During the last few weeks of my summer, it was rare that I ever left my room. What reason was there? I had a mini-fridge, a laptop, and my glorious, glorious bed. I had no need for the outside world and its sun, bugs, grass, fresh air, trees and…weather. Jogs around the neighborhood or visits to the gym seemed like preposterous undertakings. I was content with the deterioration of my physical state resulting from copious amounts of sleep, food and general motionlessness.
Coming to college elicited no change from me at first. I still chose not to move very much. The most strenuous physical activities I had performed were two 4 a.m. Frosty’s runs prior to the beginning of classes. I was certainly no exemplar of health.

But as I lay in bed thinking about my lazy self, I proceeded to question whether or not it was necessary for me to be ripped beyond belief to be healthy and satisfied. I came to the conclusion that it was not.

All I really wanted was to not be such an indolent individual and to take a little better care of the body that has supported me for some 18 odd (very odd) years.

I decided that a 30-minute jog on the treadmill most days of the week and scaling back on my food consumption would be small but beneficial steps toward improvement.

I must admit that I am still haunted by the torso in my dreams. For that reason, if you are ever to wander into Buck Center late in the evening you will see the very pathetic sight of a fellow squirming about in mild agony under the guise of doing crunches, attempting to rid himself of the sad little pouch around his belly button that has too long been a fitting metaphor for him.

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