I haven’t ridden a steel and beams roller coaster for years now, though I’m finally thin enough to do so again, but I was riding the weight roller coaster this week. It was down and then it was up and now it’s down again, so I’ll just clap my hands and say “Yay!” and hope it continues on a downward trend. Maybe next month I’ll hit 180 and have some new progress pics for you.
My kickboxing instructor seems to be sick or injured. Perhaps she got into a fight with someone with a better right hook than her. Two weeks ago I picked up the phone to hear the automated voice of an auto-dialer telling me class had been canceled. This week we had a – duh, dun, duh – substitute teacher. Perhaps my instructor is not injured at all, but just wants us to appreciate us more. Maybe she sent in a sub so we’d see how good we’ve got it with her.
The class I’m taking is called Turbo Kick, which is basically a franchise. Instructors have to buy specific Turbo Kick CDs and learn the routines that goes with that music. There is a structure to the workout which includes a warm-up, punches and kicks, a turbo session that is really fast paced, a cool down and some ab work.
The sub took us through a kickboxing aerobic workout, but it was not Turbo Kick. It was Turbo Boring. I’d been a bit frustrated during the first 6 weeks of this class because it’s been difficult for me to learn the complicated routines, especially since I have a low body intelligence. I’m not a dancer, I can’t mimic and learn a routine quickly just by watching someone. There is no mirror in the gym where we exercise, but I’m sure I quite frequently look like a mime being attacked by fire ants. You’d think I’d like the simpler routine the sub led us through
Only I didn’t. I kept checking the clock, which I’d never done before. I guess I like a challenge. I constantly have to think during Turbo Kick, but throughout the sub’s routine my mind was wandering like a drunken bum in the market district. It eventually stumbled over the thought, “If people try doing exercise that is this boring, no wonder they quit and go back to doing laps around the drive-through window.”
This wasn’t the sub’s fault. She wasn’t a Turbo Kick instructor and it seemed like she had probably been called at the last minute and had to throw something together. There were some good things about the session too. Because she was doing simpler routines I got to focus on her form more and I think I improved my technique. She also counted down how many more reps of a move we were doing, “8…7….6…” which was helpful because it prepared me for when a switch-up was coming.
She also gave us a bit more personal attention than the other instructor. About 20 minutes into class she started to head my direction. Suddenly I was back in band class, clutching my flute as Mr. Robinson pointed to me and said “PastaQueen, could you please play the four bars at the top of page two?” I put my lips to my mouthpiece and blew out a high-pitched trail of aural diarrhea. “Why don’t you sit that section out, okay?” he said as I shrunk to the size of a pea pod with cheeks the colors of tomatoes. And then I was back in the elementary school gym and the instructor was showing me how to properly time the upper body twist and knee raise. I appreciated that she was showing me how to do the move properly without injuring myself, but OHMYGOD iz soooooo embarrassing, I wanna die!
However, all my exercising in public this past year and running on the trail in a tank top despite my flabby arms etc. etc. has made me grown accustomed to the fact that sometimes I will simply look ridiculous and that’s just that. Everyone gets to play the dummy sometimes. When I had to inflate my flat tire two weeks ago, I couldn’t figure out how to use the air pump at the gas station, though it was a fairly simple mechanism. But I just decided “Today, I will play the part of the idiot girl who cannot inflate her tires and I will simply ask the gas station attendant to show me how.” And that’s okay. It’s impossible to try new things without looking like a dumbass occasionally. So, I doubt I have a future as an aerobics instructor, but I also refuse to be shamed by the fact that I need simple moves demonstrated to me.
We also did some back raise thingys that killed my abs. Killed them dead. There was a funeral with flowers and prayer cards and everything. They were sore for two days afterwards. So it wasn’t a total loss. Still, I hope my instructor’s boo-boos are all healed my next week.
ETA: Oh, by the way, I did an interview over at DailyPowerWalk.com in case you all aren’t sick of hearing me blather on about health and fitness yet.