I've heard plenty of talk lately about certain workout classes and looked and found a Barre3 class here in our town that offers childcare for $5.
Sold.
Well almost. First I had to convince myself to actually sign up for the class. I get so nervous in public settings where I'm doing movements and making faces that should only be seen by no one. Not even my own self.
So my inner 6th grader came out and I asked a friend to go with me. It's goes back to that whole "no female can go to the public restroom alone" I can't explain it, it's just something that's engrained in us. Or at least me.
And I now realize it makes no sense. If I don't want strangers to see me looking all crazy and weak why would I want someone I actually know to see me this way?
The unexplainable cannot be explained.
I woke up this morning pumped for my class. Apparently I love a good beating of my body, or I had no idea what was really in store.
I pulled up to the building and suddenly got so nervous. This is probably where anxiety meds would come in handy in my life. I saw two girls talking at the front desk and wondered if they would judge me, how I looked and how I had NO IDEA what I was doing.
Which in retrospect was just silly cause the girls that I saw as peers were probably 21 and saw me as nothing more than an old mom trying desperately to get her pre-baby body back. It's hard getting old.
I have to say that I fully enjoyed the class. It went by faster than Jillian Michaels yelling at me in my kitchen usually does. Plus the girl leading the class had the sweetest, soothing voice and it was the first time in a week when someone told me to focus on all the parts of my body, instead of throwing their grilled cheese at me yelling "NOOOO EAT".
There was only one time when I thought I was going to die. Well actually two. The first was when my whole body started shaking so much I thought I was either going to die or break my position, and I couldn't figure out which would be more embarrassing. I didn't want to be a complete failure on my first day and break one of the workout positions which I can only explain as a mix between yoga and hell.
The second time I got embarrassed was when I was pretty sure the instructor laughed at me. I did this thing where I just laughed with her in case she was laughing at me. That way I turned the situation around and we were laughing together instead of her laughing at me. See what I did there?
And then there was the moment when I realized my pants were on inside out. It was during a time of "feeling every vertebrae in our back touch the mat" and then coming back up, I realized that for some reason I could see the seams on my pants that are usually on the inside.
And suddenly all my concerns of perfecting the right position didn't seem so big when I just hoped nobody noticed the TAG OF MY PANTS hanging out.
There was also a moment, during a peaceful-focus-on-yourself-stretching-moment when I could hear Eli yelling at another kid in the childcare area that reminded me of my true position in life.
It interrupted my thoughts of a stack of pancakes with melted butter and hot maple syrup that flooded my brain throughout the entire workout.
Does anybody else only think of food when working out?
The class ended just when I was sure my legs were going to turn to noodles and I was surprised to see that I was not long and lean like my precious instructor, nor was my mom-pooch gone.
What the heck?
Obviously I signed up for more classes. An hour session of focusing on my body and somebody in a soothing voice telling me to focus on myself? Sounds good. Even if it involves my muscles cramping up so much I want to scream out in pain.
However if it doesn't work I could always take up prancercise. I'm sure it would have the same affect: