Rachel, after (finally) a successful workout class at the Y
Just when I am not sure I could have learned more about this whole new healthy fitness lifestyle—what my likes and dislikes are—here I am again. I am a perpetual student in the school of me.
Lesson since last I’ve written: I love me some personal training. I love being able to get up, put on some workout clothes, drive to the gym, have someone boss me around for an hour, then finish—glowing and proud—basking in the glory of another successful workout. I like hearing someone say “good job!” or “great form” or “can you give me two more?” and then answering, why yes, yes I think I can. Hi, my name is Rachel and it’s been 3 weeks since my last workout with Zach.
Perhaps its not hard to believe, but the hardest piece to find fit in this puzzle of personal growth so far hasn’t been the restrictive diet (though it was quite an adjustment). It hasn’t been getting up at ass-o’clock 3 times a week. It’s not the looking in the mirror and still seeing all the flabby bits that won’t shed away, or the lack of sugar in my life. No, the hardest part about this whole damn thing seems to be how to move on, post personal training. Three weeks into our transitioning to the YWCA, and I still feel a little lost. Zach, if you are listening, I just can’t quit you.
Oh we’ve tried a few things: BodyPump©, the class my friend Kate has told me about for years. Ass kicker, for sure, but mostly because I was literally kicking my ass trying to figure out how to move my legs that fast and rhythmically. Then a class simply called Step. I have no doubt they mean it when they say “all fitness levels are welcome” but more likely in that way that baptist churches say “all are welcome.” Total fitness class failure. 20 minutes in and she’d had all she could handle, and just couldn’t handle no more. Stepped right outta there. Third time is a charm right? Gotta be, Saturday morning circuit class here we come! That is until you lugged yourself out’ta bed after a late night closing, only to show up to a big sign on the front doors saying you class is cancelled for instructor training. Another 7 minute workout circuit and the Zach withdrawals are almost more than I can bear.
But this morning, ahhhhh this morning. Supposed to be a 30 minute core fit, ended up being a one hour HIIT (high intensity interval training) class. I sweat, I grunted, I almost gave up and then the instructor said—seemingly right to me—“keep going! Only 10 more, way to go!” and suddenly all feels a little brighter. I have hope. I might just be ok.
Have a Y class you love? Love to hate? Tell me which ones you like and why. I’m lookin’ for fitness love people. Help me out.