By Owen Fugit

Editor-in-Chief

This past March (for the fourth time in my high school career), I decided to start working out and getting fit. I had a good reason to restart my fitness aspirations, as first semester senior year was devastating for my body as a whole. By October, I had given up on eating full meals and settled for Pop-tarts and Gatorade at 7-11. By the time I submitted my final college application, my body was in crisis mode. In an effort to regain the several decades that August to January took off my life, I chose to get back in the gym. But this time, things would be different. 

Anyone who has looked into personal fitness in the past six months will tell you that everything revolves around a magical substance known as protein. The story of protein in the personal fitness sphere is a strange one, but to save time, just know that this substance has become the end-all be-all for anyone who wants to get fit. So when I began my fitness journey, I decided that I should hop on the protein wagon, too. 

After my first workout in mid-March, I left our small home gym setup and entered the kitchen, ready to get more than my fill of protein. The most popular way to ingest protein is through protein shakes, which use protein powders that come from a variety of sources, each more confusing than the last. My brother, who plays several sports and is very serious about protein intake, uses a special protein powder that includes thousands of calories in each cup. For my first-ever protein potion, I put two cups of powder in a blender, followed by a lot of milk, and then I dumped in a cup of frozen mango cubes. Our blender holds seven cups of liquid, and I had brimmed the tank before blending a single item. The shake tasted terrible. Nobody told me that protein powder tastes so bad and that this specific powder takes on the flavor of evil vanilla. I had half a glass of the stuff before calling it quits. I elected to try again the next day.

On day two of my fitness journey, after an especially strenuous leg workout, I chose to include less protein powder, less milk, and more fruits. I looked like a bartender playing fruit ninja, adding bananas, blueberries, peaches, and mangos to the blender in an effort to mask the atrocious flavor of the protein powder. I made an average amount of the shake, and as I brought the glass to my lips, I could already tell that something was different in this batch. The first sip confirmed my theory: the shake was actually palatable! But as I pounded my second glass of the potion, I realized that flavor was no longer my only concern. I now had to worry about stomaching 2000 calories and 50 grams of protein in one sitting. And then the flavor changed, too. Within an instant the shake became bitter, and the concrete-esque drink lost all of its appeal as I tried desperately to stop myself from throwing up at 7:30 in the morning. 

After a few weeks of abstaining from protein, I decided to try my hand at crafting a shake one more time. This time, I used chocolate syrup instead of fruit to flavor the smoothie, and after using an entire bottle of the stuff, the protein powder’s awful taste still scythed through the mix, emerging before the chocolate to create an unforgettable flavor that I won’t even try describing. 

Many people have told me that I just need to get over the flavor, but I refuse to take their advice, even though it may be correct. From now on, it’s no more protein shakes. I think I’ll just stop working out and accept that I will die at 30 from all the junk food I ate last year.