Death...

I've decided to go to a class alone. As in, without a friend accompanying me. This came at the recommendation of Justin. Somehow he can get me to do things I would never choose to do by myself. That's probably why he's good at what he does. So the class I have been encouraged to attend is a half hour of intense working out focusing on core but with arms and legs in there, too. I am terrified. I feel self-conscious when I do an exercise video in the privacy of my own home and now I have to do a class that I've only ever seen in-shape people do and in I'll walk, some fat person who is going to struggle the entire time.

When I get to the gym, I enthusiastically greet Carla, and express my feelings of nervousness. "You'll have fun!" she tells me. Oh really, Carla? Have you ever done this class? I'll probably hate it and believe me, I will let you know that I hate it. But it's hard to actually be even remotely upset when she's so friendly and trying to be encouraging.

I change and come back up the stairs (those awful, horrible stairs) and head towards the workout studio. There are no joke, probably 25 people outside of the room. Kill me now, because to have to exercise with these people will be inhumane torture. Oh well. I strike up a conversation with a particularly friendly looking woman and ask if the class is always this busy. "No, this is really unusual," she responds. Great. Leave it to the horrible laws of inconvenient coincidences to have me come to a class on the random day when it's actually busy. Screw you, universe!

And boy do I feel the crowdedness when we actually go into the room. I try to find a spot where I can remain somewhat hidden (not easy when you're 6'4" and fat) but all of these spots are taken almost immediately by people who really should not be embarrassed about how they look. There should be some kind of rule about that, similar to the rules about requiring seats be available on trains to seniors or persons with disabilities. Please reserve concealed areas of the workout studio for overweight persons. Slap that on a sign and you could make millions. 

Also, this is my first class that requires me to actually pick up equipment. And I have no idea what to grab. Thank goodness Justin is there and he tells me to grab an orange resistance band with handles and a five pound plate and a mat. So I do. I can't even begin to express how nervous I am. It's not like they're going to ask me to demonstrate everything at the front of the room, but I'm still incredibly nervous for this next half hour.

Praise the lord they start by playing One Direction. Because I am beautiful and I don't know it and that's what makes me beautiful. But not while we're doing crunches and leg extensions. I guarantee that I am not beautiful while this is happening. As the class progresses, I'm happy that I'm kind of keeping up and not feeling discouraged when I have to take a brief rest. I push myself and I don't quit. Even when we do squats. While raising the weight over our heads. And my arms are crying. I didn't know arms could cry.

It's at the end where things start to fall apart. We swap to a lot of stuff in the plank position that I can't do. I have to drop my knees to even remain in the plank position while everyone else is successfully doing one armed planks. But, I'm not ashamed (nor is it particularly edgy for me to say) that these people are in better shape than me and should be able to do things better. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is growth.

Class is over. I've survived. Yes, I have left a puddle of sweat on the floor, but they clean in here, right? The instructors tell everyone not to lift, but they encourage everyone to do some cardio. I almost laugh out loud. But then I think, 'Why not? Push yourself, Sam.' Though that's kind of a lie. I never actually think my name to myself when I am in thought.

I go downstairs, determined to do my fifteen minutes on the elliptical. I start, and Ke$ha keeps me going for about two minutes before I adjust my expected workout time down to ten minutes. And then I decide to stop at the five minute mark. I worked hard, so I'll reward myself with a shorter elliptical workout.