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.
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