On Wednesdays it gets real
If I had to pick one person who has impacted my life most significantly, and I couldn't pick one of my children, it would without a doubt be my friend Allison. It sounds cliche to say I don't know where I'd be if it wasn't for her, but I stand by that cliche and raise it: After all these years, I don't know WHO I'd be, either.
Allison enthusiastically read my first post and after the second texted me, "I'm really into it," which felt kind of like every time an elementary teacher put a sticker on your paper all combined into one giant moment of pride.
So it's no surprise that by 8 am this morning Allison had sent me the directions (not so easy) I needed to add a subscribe button to this little project of mine. Like I said, no cliche, she's the real deal.
Day 3 5:30 am: Total Body Challenge Wednesday Edition
Determined not to wander the halls of the Boothbay Harbor YMCA again searching for the Total Body Challenge, I make every effort to be there on time. As I hustle in the door, I catch the end of Middle Aged In-Shape Woman from the first Total Body Challenge mentioning to the Older Gentleman of the Front Desk that she is waiting for me since I had worried on Monday I might be late again and not know where the class was hiding.
"And here she is," she exclaims, smiling at me. So I'm clear, she's not an instructor. She's just a Super Nice Middle Aged In-Shape Woman looking out for me. Maine has got to be the birthplace of the Warm Fuzzy.
But then she turns to me and says, "We're starting on the bikes today."
I start to panic.
Sometimes an ad will pop up in my Facebook feed of a spin class. It looks like some sort of Disco Military Training; it's dimly lit with flashing colored lights and loud pop music and muscly looking guys yelling into head mics while everyone does what seems like jumping jacks on top of a bike that might consist of a circular razor saw and a tiny triangular metal seat. Everyone shouts and gnashes their teeth and drips with sweat and this ad is somehow supposed to make me want to participate in spinning.
Now Super Nice Middle Aged In-Shape Woman is saying something about yesterday's Total Body Challenge in the pool (which I skipped for what now in comparison feels like it was Water Playtime and Nap On a Mat). But I am not listening. We are getting closer and closer to the Spin Studio and I am internally talking myself off the ledge.
I am not ready for this, I tell myself. I literally just starting working out 2 days ago.
Well, you can't just leave, myself tells myself. I know I can't just leave! Why would you even suggest that I think I can leave, I say back to myself.
I decide that the best approach, the only approach, is to pretend that I know what I'm doing.
I awkwardly stumble into the room and see that most of my classmates from Monday are already on their bikes, casually peddling. Super Nice Middle Aged In-Shape Woman gracefully hops onto a bike. I look at the remaining bikes and pick the one closest to the edge so that when I fall off and break myself I at least won't take someone else out with me.
I'm just going to fake it. I'm just going to fake it. I'm just going to fake it. Please Lord, let me live.
I must have been staring at the bike like I was trying to figure out how to ride a llama because a classmate comes over as I look up from trying to figure out the foot holders.
"Have you ever done this before?" he asks.
Just say yes. Just say yes. Just say yes and get on the bike. Or run out of the room. Run away!
But then I hear myself say, "No."
"No, I have never done this before."
Exhale.
And with zero judgment in his voice, Nice Classmate is now helping me adjust my seat to the correct height and the correct distance from the handlebars. Meagan, the instructor, is showing me where the resistance knob is located.
Nice Classmate points out to me where to find the numbers that mark my individualized spin bike setting so that if I ever decide to come back I can get set up on my own.
The class starts and there is no loud disco music or yelling. For 20 minutes Meagan makes us twist the resistance knob (Spin Bike Instrument of Torture) quarter turns to the right. We stand up on the pedals sometimes and sprint sometimes.
It's the hardest workout I've ever done and I feel a little like I might need to throw up for the rest of the day. I'm proud of myself for doing it but I'm more proud of myself for deciding to admit to Nice Classmate that I needed help.
Today's learning: I know to set my spin bike at 4 and 2.5, I know that at least at the Boothbay Harbor YMCA no one is going to yell at me or flash lights at me while I exercise, and I know that sometimes the most real thing anyone can do is admit they have absolutely no idea what they are doing.
Also Day 3: You're kidding, right?
See you tomorrow.
Allison enthusiastically read my first post and after the second texted me, "I'm really into it," which felt kind of like every time an elementary teacher put a sticker on your paper all combined into one giant moment of pride.
So it's no surprise that by 8 am this morning Allison had sent me the directions (not so easy) I needed to add a subscribe button to this little project of mine. Like I said, no cliche, she's the real deal.
Day 3 5:30 am: Total Body Challenge Wednesday Edition
Determined not to wander the halls of the Boothbay Harbor YMCA again searching for the Total Body Challenge, I make every effort to be there on time. As I hustle in the door, I catch the end of Middle Aged In-Shape Woman from the first Total Body Challenge mentioning to the Older Gentleman of the Front Desk that she is waiting for me since I had worried on Monday I might be late again and not know where the class was hiding.
"And here she is," she exclaims, smiling at me. So I'm clear, she's not an instructor. She's just a Super Nice Middle Aged In-Shape Woman looking out for me. Maine has got to be the birthplace of the Warm Fuzzy.
But then she turns to me and says, "We're starting on the bikes today."
I start to panic.
Sometimes an ad will pop up in my Facebook feed of a spin class. It looks like some sort of Disco Military Training; it's dimly lit with flashing colored lights and loud pop music and muscly looking guys yelling into head mics while everyone does what seems like jumping jacks on top of a bike that might consist of a circular razor saw and a tiny triangular metal seat. Everyone shouts and gnashes their teeth and drips with sweat and this ad is somehow supposed to make me want to participate in spinning.
Now Super Nice Middle Aged In-Shape Woman is saying something about yesterday's Total Body Challenge in the pool (which I skipped for what now in comparison feels like it was Water Playtime and Nap On a Mat). But I am not listening. We are getting closer and closer to the Spin Studio and I am internally talking myself off the ledge.
I am not ready for this, I tell myself. I literally just starting working out 2 days ago.
Well, you can't just leave, myself tells myself. I know I can't just leave! Why would you even suggest that I think I can leave, I say back to myself.
I decide that the best approach, the only approach, is to pretend that I know what I'm doing.
I awkwardly stumble into the room and see that most of my classmates from Monday are already on their bikes, casually peddling. Super Nice Middle Aged In-Shape Woman gracefully hops onto a bike. I look at the remaining bikes and pick the one closest to the edge so that when I fall off and break myself I at least won't take someone else out with me.
I'm just going to fake it. I'm just going to fake it. I'm just going to fake it. Please Lord, let me live.
I must have been staring at the bike like I was trying to figure out how to ride a llama because a classmate comes over as I look up from trying to figure out the foot holders.
"Have you ever done this before?" he asks.
Just say yes. Just say yes. Just say yes and get on the bike. Or run out of the room. Run away!
But then I hear myself say, "No."
"No, I have never done this before."
Exhale.
And with zero judgment in his voice, Nice Classmate is now helping me adjust my seat to the correct height and the correct distance from the handlebars. Meagan, the instructor, is showing me where the resistance knob is located.
Nice Classmate points out to me where to find the numbers that mark my individualized spin bike setting so that if I ever decide to come back I can get set up on my own.
The class starts and there is no loud disco music or yelling. For 20 minutes Meagan makes us twist the resistance knob (Spin Bike Instrument of Torture) quarter turns to the right. We stand up on the pedals sometimes and sprint sometimes.
It's the hardest workout I've ever done and I feel a little like I might need to throw up for the rest of the day. I'm proud of myself for doing it but I'm more proud of myself for deciding to admit to Nice Classmate that I needed help.
Today's learning: I know to set my spin bike at 4 and 2.5, I know that at least at the Boothbay Harbor YMCA no one is going to yell at me or flash lights at me while I exercise, and I know that sometimes the most real thing anyone can do is admit they have absolutely no idea what they are doing.
Also Day 3: You're kidding, right?
See you tomorrow.
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