The Side-effects of Exercise

Exercise is considered to be a healthy addition to one's life. In an attempt to make myself more healthy, I've begun to use exercise as a form of punishment. Eat pizza for lunch? An extra lap of the circle. Waste too much time on the internet? Walk to the library every day. Spend too much money at the farmer's market? 100 extra sit-ups. This regime is definitely making me more active; there are any number of infractions to my own sense of "right" and "good" that I commit every day. Although I'm sure this attitude isn't the healthiest, it seems to be the only way to motivate myself. It had been a long time since I was even slightly active, meaning there are a lot of little side-effects, the unpublicized ones, that I am quickly becoming reacquainted with.

• A newfound hatred of my body. Since when is there so much jiggle? I understand that I'm overweight, but really, I don't remember it being this bad in the past. And why, even after eating so very little and being so very active, do I weigh more than yesterday? I think I'm breaking laws of physics. Oh, and I could also do without the intense shortness of breath that makes me relate intimately with emphysema victims. I've never been fond of my physical self, but all this exercise is just making it worse.
• A need for (more) new clothing. I love my running shoes, but the throbbing blister on one heel and the deep gouge on the other are urging me that now would be a good time to buy a new pair. My sweatpants, comfy and drawstrung, have tried to fall off one too many times for comfort, so perhaps we need something a little more reliable and, sadly, less drawstrung. While I'm at it, there are probably only so many times I can wear the same tank top with built in sports bra in a week. I really should consider those downwind.
• A growing senility. In my daily exploits, I find myself holding conversations in my head. My activities pace themselves accordingly, meaning I often find myself meandering in a daydream conversation with myself. If I'm not careful, these conversations are going to drive me batshit insane. I can't even capture the gems of the conversation in my notebook, because who takes a notebook running? I should really look into something portable to lure my mind into an upbeat coma to ward off the crazy.

As for the positive side-effects, I'm still waiting for the ability to eat pizza without feeling guilty.