DAY 2: Burn SF-Broadway

            My whole body hurt the next day. I was seriously unable to get out of bed for work. I wake up at 5:00 am in order to be at my job by 6:00 and I felt so sore I considered calling in sick that day. Well, my mother had this saying when my sister and I were growing up and it was “March or die”. Basically if I was not dying then I had to get up and keep moving. This mantra helped me a lot through university when I was battling major depression, and here it is again rearing its ugly motivational head. So I got up and went to work. I spent part of the day complaining to my coworkers about how out of shape I am and how sore I was from this class. They didn’t care because they’re both guys in construction and thought I was being a whiny dingbat. So I stuffed my complaints and whines back into the dark place they came from and continued on with the workday.

            Judgment day had arrived once again as I stood outside of the Pilates studio. I went in and signed my life away on the waiver and sat down on the mat in front of one of the springboards. In flounces this beautiful, willowy blonde in a cute workout ensemble. I say ensemble because lets face it people; you can’t work out in San Francisco without looking cute. It is just not done. I thought well this amazon must be the instructor when I ate my words and she sat down two mats to the right of me. Jealousy and insecurities blew up to the surface and demanded I hate this girl because she was in way better shape, hotter, and looked 1000x better in yoga apparel than me. Focus. This isn’t about her. She could give two shits about you. This about your own ugly feelings here, so stop gawking and focus on the class. So I chose to ignore the Viking goddess and waited for the instructor to show me the ropes. She was a sweet pregnant lady who explained what to do when she called out instructions and how to use the board. Okay, less complex than the demon platform from yesterday, so maybe I could handle this? 5 minutes in when we were jumping around doing calisthenics I was once again demoralized and struggling. Side note: why can’t an apparel company make a pair of pants that stay up? Why is finding exercise pants more difficult than finding a boyfriend in SF? If I’m shelling out 100+ for a pair of Lycra pants then why can’t they stay UP?! To make matters worse aside from my uncomfortable pants situation the instructor had to come over and lower my tension on the springs because I wasn’t strong enough to keep up. Being a beginner in a room full of veterans is really difficult. Every time I go to a class I have to yell at myself to not get discouraged to keep myself from walking out halfway through. I kept going though. I kept jiggling and pushing through the spring and calisthenics. Then we got to the abs section and it took everything I had to barrel through the soreness from yesterday and not give up. With each exercise I felt my energy wane, and I had less and less to give to each interval. After 55 minutes it was over and I got to leave. I survived day 2.

DAY 1: Core 40-Nob Hill

God. I really didn’t want to go to this class. My sister told me it was difficult and my other friend said her friend swears by this insane workout. Well, I signed up and they charge you if you cancel within 12 hours of the start time, so there no backing out. I’m also the cheap kind of person who demands they get their “money’s worth” (strangely paradoxical in this case I know), so my cheap principles forced me to suck it up. I had so much anxiety the whole day thinking about this class. Would I fail miserably? Would people judge me and think, “WTF is this noob doing here?! Go back to your Costco 24 hour fitness membership and quit taking up space for the serious people”. Yep, all my insecurities were raging at me to not step foot in this upscale Pilates studio. The internal struggle was pretty fucking real here people. But I went anyways.

            The instructor was nice and accepting. She tried to be as encouraging as possible since she knew it was my first time. I got on the reformer, which to me looked like a flat demon with wheels and pulleys. Holy hell why was I doing this to myself again? Oh that is right. I’m a fat lazy turd that keeps wallowing in self-hatred. So I got my flabby ass on that demon platform. Then I fell through the platform within the first three minutes of class causing a ruckus, and forcing the teacher to run to my side to make sure I was okay. Great. Well she had to make some modifications so I couldn’t hurt/embarrass myself again and it was back off to the races once more. Damn. The whole time I was shaking and sweating. There were muscles in my butt I didn’t even know existed shaking like those horrible Jell-O molds. Other people struggled as well though, and I tried to keep my inner judgmental self in check. There was a teacher on the platform next to me and even she struggled with a few of the moves (this may or may not have been due to Super Bowl 50 being the previous day and most people were supremely hung over on Monday). So I kept struggling and 40 minutes later it was gloriously over. HALLELUJAH. I was dying people. Dying. Call me pathetic because at this point I was seriously an awful sight. I could hardly walk home I was so spent and wobbly. The instructor came up to me and asked me what I thought and reassured me I did a great job for my first time (right lady, I know you’re being nice but let us remember I fell through the machine and ate it hard within the first three minutes). I put my shoes back on and wobbled home to go crawl into my bed and die. Then I remembered: fuck I have another class tomorrow.

DAY 0: It Begins

Let me preface this buy stating that I am not an athletic person. Never have been, and most likely never will be. I have always been the introverted type that prefers staying inside versus frolicking outside. I’m also supremely lazy. I’ve also been overweight my whole life and lately it has really been getting me down. Dating, overall health, fatigue, and mood have been issues recently and a lot of it has to do with my weight. Quite simply put I don’t feel comfortable in my own skin anymore and it sucks. So, whilst I complain on the Internet I’ve decided to try and do something about it. Heavy emphasis on tries. My gym workouts were typically walking on the treadmill for 30-45 minutes and watching whatever show I’m currently binging on Netflix. Yes, judge freely here because it sounds pretty lazy doesn’t it? Well duh, because it was. Remember who is writing this: the self declared queen of zero-effort. I was attempting to build consistency but realized I wasn’t holding myself accountable to really doing anything at the gym. So I had to change my approach. I bit the bullet and shelled out the cash to try class pass. My sister has been doing it for a while and she has become a fitness boutique bunny. Hopping around from class to class getting sweaty and thinner as each day goes by. Yes, you’re right of course I resent her for getting thin. I’m a competitive, awful person and that is just how my brain thinks. But if you can’t beat them: join them, and I certainly wasn’t going to beat anyone with my current routine. So this is where we start my Internet friends. I’m at ground zero and I’m trying to build myself back up in an attempt to be happier and healthier. Let’s see if it works out shall we?