I am a slacker and deeply suspicious of people who exercise. I believe that people who exercise regularly are hiding something, like a particularly heinous neurosis or, perhaps, a life of crime. So, I've spent the past several years inert and sarcastically needling my friends who go to the gym. That changed when we were staying at a hotel and I got out of the shower and saw myself, in all my glory, in a mirror that covered an entire wall. In that moment, I realized that the two pregnancies, 39 years and all the slacking had taken their toll. I realized that I had gone to seed and so, in the unflattering light of that hotel room, it became clear to me that I needed to start exercising. For the past month, I've been walking and running a little bit. Now, when I say a "little bit", I really mean it. I am not being modest. I mean that I am walking a couple of miles and running for a very brief period when a really upbeat song comes on the iPod. This gruelling workout has not achieved the results I was looking for so I decided to add a fitness class - Chisel Express. If there is one thing I need it is a good chiseling and I figured that an express class would be short and painless. I have never taken a fitness class in my life. Never. Today was the first.
I walked into the room and was instantly anxious because it was filled with the Fit and Coordinated. The instructor was listing the equipment that would be used for the class. I was fine when she told everyone to get a mat but started to panic when she added a bosu ball, fitness ball, two sets of weights and a weight bar. I don't speak fitness language. I speak slacker language like, "Do you have the remote?" and "Please pass the M & M's." So, I had to breathe deeply, watch the others and copy their every move. Well, not every move, because I tried repeatedly to remove weights from the locked weight cabinet rather than the unlocked one. It's hard to act cool when you slowly realize that the weights are not supposed to make that banging noise when removing them from the rack and, wow, do things echo is those fitness studios.
After we all had our pile of equipment, we began. There was lunging and tapping and balancing and lifting and stretching and crunching and pulsing. It was so unbelievably hard that I had to start laughing about 2/3 of the way through or I would have cried and run screaming from the room. I do have some pride. Just when I thought I couldn't take anymore, it was over and I dragged all my equipment back to its rightful place and headed very slowly towards the door. The instructor shouted some perky words of encouragement to me and I laughed and walked out of the room with my arms and legs shaking and spasms in my ass. When I got back to work, I could hardly eat my lunch because it just took way too much effort to bring that fork all the way to my mouth.
This is why I lettered in Debate.