Originally published October 6, 2013.
Trying to breeze through the gate, I scan my pass & throw myself into the turnstile. But the turnstile DOESN’T TURN. Instead, it clotheslines me at the waist.
Quite dramatically, I might add.
The Y employee mercifully buzzes me through and I rush down the hall to Group Exercise Room 2.
The room is packed full of women ready to be tortured by Stephanie and her Total Strength. Unwilling to throw elbows to snag a Bosu, I turn and walk away.
Determination still high, I walk to Group Exercise Room 1 and check the schedule. Cardio Step with Jessica starts in five minutes. I haven’t ever done Cardio Step. But I’ve done Cardio Strength plenty of times. And we used a step in that class. So Cardio Step must just be Cardio Strength without the weights, right?
Works for me.
Maybe I should be concerned that there are only five of us in the room when the class begins.
It all starts simply enough: “March.” – got it. “Basic Right.” – all good. “Basic left.” – nailed it.
But then my brain explodes.
I’m dying you guys. DYING. And I can’t hide behind anyone. There are only five of us in the mirrored room. And THEY’RE all skipping and step-touch-double-step-touch-HELICOPTER.
And there I am, watching Jessica the Pivoting Stepwonder. So, what do I do?
I just march it out, y’all.
While marching, I try to devise an escape plan. (Jessica’s still on the WARMUP, mind you. You guys, we are not three minutes into the class. We are still on the FIRST SONG.) Do I just leave my step in the middle of the room and run out? Or take the time to put it away, showing myself to be courteous, but risk being called out by Jessica?
Then, in the mirrored wall, I see my saving grace enter through the door behind me: A Latecomer.
I run to her and whisper-yell, “I can’t do this. I’m leaving. Would you like my step?” And bless her heart, she tries to talk me into staying.
“No, REALLY. I’m LEAVING. PLEASE use my step.”
I’m giving her the crazy eyes now, and she doesn’t question me again. I grab my water bottle and do not look back.
I wish this was a post about my UNFALTERING determination, and that I STILL managed to get in a killer workout.
Or any workout.
But, no. I head straight for the parking lot, drive myself home, and enjoy a tasty bowl of consolation ice cream.
Can anyone relate? What’s your latest workout fail? Solidarity, ladies. There is no shame here! (OBVIOUSLY.) Share away.