Look What Now Got Me Into

I love comments. I really do. Not the number, really, although any feedback is nice, but the ideas and validation are what really keep me coming back for more.

A few of yesterday's comments created today's post.

Barb replied: "I have decided the no-extra-charge classes at my gym are the solution. Avoidance of public humiliation pushes me harder in those classes than when I'm on the elliptical."

Melanie concurred: "I agree though, I didn't push myself nearly as hard when I worked out on my own. But like Barb, I did push myself in all the kick boxing classes. I didn't want to look like a wimp in there, ha!"

Carlo mentioned it: " i had a few months to get up to speed and then i jumped into the group classes"

Amber dittoed: "I ditto the class suggestion. I work so much harder in a class and at least at the gym I used to belong to they were 'free' with your membership."

I've been setting weekly fitness goals as a result of my word for the year - Now. One of the goals was to attend a class at the gym. I think it's been over five years since I've attended one and once you're out of the system, it's quite intimidating to jump back in.

My intimidation has several sources. First and foremost, the exact point of the group class. I actually have to work out in front of others. This includes breathing (who wants to be the hardest breather in a group?), learning some sort of routine, finding a discreet location that minimizes the number of people who have to witness the adjusting of my underwear and the usual requirement to respond to a teacher's insistence on yelling something out loud during the work-out.

Most of these intimidations are new. When you're in shape, you're not worried about keeping up. You know you can out kick, out step, out lift your neighbor. And you certainly don't worry about being the only one to stay with the "level one" move while everyone else bumps it up a notch to "level two". Underwear fit better and, of course you yell. Isn't that the point? Boo-ya!

In spite of of these reasons, and many others, my word took me to a class Tuesday night. A class called BodyCombat. Yes, it was exactly that class.

There were two instructors. Both young and nubile, both wearing fingerless gloves that made them look legitimate and tough and both requiring me to yell things throughout the workout that made me giggle. I'm not sure how to type out the "woot woot"s and "hu!" with each kick and punch. But imagine the sounds coming from the gut and in some imitation of a martial arts movie.

It was a good workout but bouncy! All the shuffling and pretend jump roping and high kicks really got me moving - and not always in a good way. The routines invariably stumped me. Me - a girl who used to learn the fly girl routines on In Living Color - could not come up with a jab-jab-jab-jab-two count hook-two count uppercut-leg pump reach-legpump reach-jumpkick-land (pause)-shuffle-shuffle-shuffle. Not once. I was never on the right leg when it came time to jumpkick and then shuffled the wrong way. Every time.

Whenever I looked in the mirror, I felt aghast that this uncoordinated looking woman, who was all elbows and bounce, was me. When did I lose my ability to remember an eight step routine?

I know I should go back. Face my demons and the ladies in gloves once more. I might even get the jumpkick this time. Better yet, I might try "level" two.

Just wanted you to know. I'm out there "now"ing.