Fitness Mania...

More like Fitness I want you to die-ia. In order to give people a chance to sample several of the classes offered, my gym put together a 3 hour, 5 session, day of classes with each half hour offering several class choices throughout the gym. Having scouted my five before hand (and somehow convinced that this would be fun) I head into Pilates, something I have always wondered about but never tried. I have done yoga classes and I figured that they were in the same family, so it couldn't be that hard. Yeah, it was that hard. I had anticipated the day being those less familiar with the workout scene, coming to a non-stressful trial run of the different programs. Not a full on Pilates class amongst people who have clearly done this before with no extraneous body fat to be seen. If Pilates is in the Yoga family, then it is the 200 pound older brother with a penchant towards body slams and noogies. We get in position facing the mirror, oh I hate the mirror, and start on our backs. As we inhale and press our abdominal muscles toward our spine, I am thinking I can do this. Five minutes in they are wanting me, the girl who hasn't trained her muscles since 8th grade gym, to do real push ups and I've changed my mind. As soon as my elbows unlock I am beelining towards the floor. There is no stopping this train and the inevitable thud. Awesome time to be in the front. With sit ups, everyone else seemingly trucks along to the beat while I am visibly shaking, trying to make it up without my feet flying off the floor. My attempt at the V hold was laughable and I am still undecided whether I liked the roll ups or the resulting wedgie least. Okay, so out of shape. Check.

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My second choice of the day was Zumba, which I anticipated was cardio/dance. The Latin part didn't surprise me, the amount of shaking did. There are certain parts of me that I tend to avoid shaking in public. You know, the parts that keep shaking after the intentional movement stops. I dance at home all the time. I shake and turn and feel the beat as the boys dance along. It is quite another story to be asked to shake, well, anything with a row of strangers behind you. Before I know it, the instructor is shimmying and then expecting us to do this dance I have only seen on My Super Sweet Sixteen. I went to a school where dancing wasn't allowed. My hips aren't trained to move that way. The worst part was trying to get the coordination. Between the circle of the hips and the hands and the turning of the feet, I felt completely out of sync. I can shake my bon-bon, no doubt, but not when lunging, hopping and spinning on the side. The man behind me had just given up and was convulsing around to the beat and during the fastest paced song, I was ready to follow behind. Still, even with the cemented knowledge that I am not ready for the streets of Argentina, I left having sweat and not pulled a single one of my hip shaking muscles. A success indeed.

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The Energy Crew class is what turned out to be the best of the day. Sitting on the seat, waiting for the class to begin, the girl to the right of me leaned over and asked if I urgged often. I looked at her and said, "What is urg?". Okay, so that's a no. Apparently it was the name of the machine I was on and it was her way of telling me that if I tried to use it at the current resistance, I would probably experience some sort of arm detachment. Basically, it is a machine that puts you through the same motion as you would if you were rowing those crew boats. I was excited to find that I had a knack for it and was able to keep pace but not without effort. By the end, I was fully expecting some sort of accolade or invitation to join the Chesapeake Rowing team. I was rocking that urg. I googled it...it's legit. Sadly, no one seemed to be as clear on my natural talent as I was. I even stayed behind to tell the instructor how much I enjoyed it and still, nothing. No "I think you would be great at it" or "Have you ever thought about professionally rowing?". Just a "Tuesdays at lunch". Well bleh to you to. Olympic Crew team here I come.

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Everyone ended the day with Yoga, Pilates younger and much more enjoyable sibling. The upside...familiarity. The downside...I pretty much reeked. We are crammed in this room and I am just praying that I am the only one who can smell my feet. They just spent two hours sweating in shoes. By now everything hurts and the stretching is welcome. Corpse position with the lights turned off was a basic invitation to sleep. Fetal position did nothing for the fight. When the lights came on right after the "namaste", the entire class just sat there, no one quite able to move. SO much better than Pilates.

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Walking in my shorts, in the freezing cold, back to my car, I did feel as though I accomplished something. Something I will be paying for for days to come. The consolation is that I happened to walk by the turbo kick class and I am pretty sure they will be paying more.

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So, Energy Crew it is and when a little less...let's go with squishy...maybe some zumba as, clearly, willing yourself to be Shakira just isn't enough.