He should have just slipped some arsenic into my tea last night if he wanted me dead.
Most depraved analogy I’ve made to date? Probably. Not funny to some? Definitely. Funny to me? I have a sick sense of humor.
So where am I getting at by joking that my boyfriend tried to kill me? Tonight I used the gift card to the kickboxing place that John got me for Christmas. The one where he attached an adorable note:
I’m now under the belief that the card was a mere trap to have me believe I’m a badass. Guys, I’m not! Tonight was up there in most pathetic workout of my life. After relearning how to ride a bike… If you can even count that.
Well, tonight was the night. After discussing with a friend, who will remain called Diandra because it’s her alter ego, we decided to take their “toning” class together. The stars were aligned. I was feeling good. I’ve been working out regularly, my cardio is decent, I do yoga frequently, I even do the occasional jumping jack on my own time. I was sure that this would be a cinch. Or at least doable.
I have to be honest, Diandra, that doll, has gone multiple times but finds yoga more calming. Probably because no one is yelling at you in yoga. Now, the truth is, I can’t say I got yelled at, but I definitely felt the pressure to push myself. She warned me that this would happen, but I was overly confident in my ability.
Here’s how the class went:
Stretching, I got this.
Plank, 2 minutes, I got this. I’m going to show off.
Move continuously… I don’t got this.
When did lifting two pound weights become this challenging?
Then everything went dark. That’s when I died.
I tried. I tried so damn hard, but I felt like I had a 100 pound weight on my back. Diandra and I discussed the class and the best way it can be described is as follows…
When I was in 9th grade I was in the slow math class. I swear – there were three teachers and eight students. Social studies, honors. Spanish, honors. English, college. Science AP (it was for two weeks, but it makes my story better.) Despite being an honors student, I struggled with math to the point of no return. That’s how I felt tonight. I felt like the kid that is really trying to understand what’s going on, but I’m just hoping no one notices that I have no idea what I’m doing. I wanted to disappear a bit. And it clicked in my head and brought me back to a place of empathy for every person putting themselves out there again in the workout community for the first time in a long time, or the first time ever. It sucks to be that kid.
Despite this feeling of wow I suck, I still got something out of it. Being humbled. I wanted to try again and prove that I can do better, I can learn, I want to learn. I thanked the teacher and left. Embarrassed, but humbled. Now, unlike Zumba, which I despise, I’m looking forward to getting my “badass” ass handed to me again. Maybe next time I’ll try to stay conscious.
John, you didn’t kill me. In the words of Kelly Clarkson – What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger… then I usually start making up the words because I have no idea what she’s actually saying.