Chitty Chitty Bangin' Bod

Bangin’ Body

After procrastinating about my resolution to try one of the scary cardio, non-yoga classes, finally today I went through with it. Left work a little early because my workout pants had somehow escaped my giant zebra purse/gymbag, and though I contemplated what might happen if I showed up to workout in just tights and a t-shirt, decided against it.

Did you hear it snowed in Chicago? Well it did. Kind of a lot. Not like the snow they get in DC, but enough that I was burning calories hustling through the muck on the 20 minute walk to the gym. And I was still late to a class entitled Bangin’ Body. Because who doesn’t want that, right?

The room was packed with girls in ponytails and their yogamats and bosu balls (thos half orbs of bounciness, really why weren’t these around when I was a kid?). Right away I noticed the teacher—a six foot tall Barbie in a hot pink tank top, perfect makeup and a flawlessly thin body. As I gaped at her and realized there were none of the magical bosu balls left, and for a second thought I’d gotten out of this. “Is the class full?” I asked her. “It’s crowded but we’ll make room” she told me. A girl pointed to a sliver of a spot front and center. Awesome. Same nice girl suggested maybe I grab a regular exercise ball to do sit-ups. Ok. Ready.

Holy bounciness, people. I do the elliptical, I do yoga. Sometimes I run after the Damen bus. But this woman immediately had us kicking and leaping and doing all sorts of things and I immediately realized that I wasn’t, uh, getting enough support. In the girl region. I found myself half clutching my boobs half running while I followed along. Soon enough I’d hurt too much to care about this anymore.

Lots of reps. I only have a set of 2 lb weights and 5lb weights. I’m goldilocks without the right chair, it’s just not working. the 2s make me look wimpy and the 5s make me want to die. I start to feel nauseated. Just when things are getting terrifying, nice girl gets nicer. Barbie asks everyone to start stepping up and down on the bosu ball (which I don’t have(, and this friendly neighbor offers to share. So not only do I run the risk of knocking noggins with her or falling over…I have to keep up with her. She steps up, I step up. Whoa. Is that my heart exploding? No. It’s not going to explode.

I can’t do everything yet. For whatever reason ab moves are particularly excruciating. It’s clearly amature time up here. But I made it. And at the end of the class, the nice girl asks if this was my first time in the class. Claro que sî, lady. She smiles and tells me to come back, it gets easier. I tell her I will.

There’s a difference between being determined and being committed. I’m not feeling a ton of determination right now. But I’m committed to this. And it helps that I’ve lost at least 4 lbs already. A pound per blog post? You'll be hearing from me more.

So, to stop the navel-gazing here, I want to interview some friends about how they’re being healthy, and how they’re not, and tell their stories here. Stay tuned. And let me know if you're interested.