what's new. 2

So, the idea is to make this a weekly wrap-up with a few little gems I figured out throughout the week.  Mostly, I can use it later to go back and see what was 'new' for me on any given week.  Here's week 2:

- New classes at the gym are a little less scary if you take Becky, or one of your friends.

- No one should ever, Ever take spinning EVER unless you want to waste an hour on a bike going nowhere and not be able to sit down for  a week.

- I will never look attractive while working out.

- The more awkward the situation / class the funnier the story later.

- I reference cannoli and my elusive future husband a lot.

- Turns out admitting you know nothing is easier than pretending you know something.

- Sometimes you just need a break.

(Also, I realize the picture has nothing to do with going to the gym, but who doesn't like a cute dog picture now and then?)

yogalates.

Friends, I found another keeper.*  No, not the dark haired gentleman I keep referring to, but instead the Yoga/Pilates mix I took yesterday.  I almost wasn't going to write about it today because its Saturday and who's really going to read this on Saturday?  I mean of the 17 of you that do read 52 weeks, one is my mom (hi mom). One is my friend Megan who's probably walking her dog, or still asleep, and I just figured the other 15 of you were probably at brunch.  Then I thought maybe, just maybe there were one or two of you who might like to hear abut how much I liked yoga slash pilates, so I'll tell you, quickly, so you can get to brunch.

Holyamazingnotspinclassahhhh.

The class was what you'd expect, we did some yoga, we did some pilates, but it was nice to be in a fairly comfortable place where the only accoutrement was my very own personal yoga mat (which I remembered to bring- little victory).  When you're in a mildly foreign environment that's pumping Lady Gaga and Black Eyed Peas over the speakers at ear splitting volume and where the pace of the whole place is go, go, go, faster, more, better, go, it was nice to do something a little more familiar, even if I had to do it right in front of the doors, and windows, and potential future husband.

*In the spirit of full disclosure, it was not the first time I had taken either Yoga or Pilates, or any combination of the two.  It was however a renewed effort on my part to actually go to a class at my gym, which I pay for every month and yet continue to just drive by on a daily basis without so much as a second thought.

At least I'm being honest.

I didn't go to the gym yesterday.

Yep.  There it is.  I had every intention of taking some sort of class where I'm sure I'd end up looking totally spastic and out of my element directly in front of the door or windows and potentially right in front of the man with the buzz and a 4 day beard (who is also amazing with kids, has dark hair, is taller than me, won't call anything theatre related gay, lets me wear his hoodies when I'm cold, and knows how to cook because I certainly don't) who could have been my future husband had he not seen me flailing my arms awkwardly and trying to keep up with a petiteacher or one of the skinny girls in one of the classes who I just wish would eat a piece of cake or a cookie or something so I wouldn't want to punch her so much.  Instead.  I stayed home.  I had the heart of a lion and every intention of putting myself into another totally foreign, potentially painful situation so I could broaden my horizons and also give you something funny to read about, but my closer to thirty than twenty body had other ideas.  I'm not injured (unless you count my broken vagina bones and crushed spirit from the class of doom,  I mean spinning) I just needed a day to recover.  So I took one.  One day off.  And now, today, I'm back.  So look out Pilates slash Yoga mix (and potential husband) here I come.

Sculpting.

Just so we're all on the same page-

Sculpting: A powerful class that works the entire body using a variety of weights, tubes, and balls.

After my experience with spinning the day before, it took every ounce of strength I had to go to a class.  I literally had to talk myself into lacing up my snow boots, throwing on a fleece, and making the trek to the gym.  Once I got there I was happy I showed up, save for the fact that I was a little late and the only spot left in the room was directly in front of the door, and the wall of windows.  Actually, I really thought I'd have a lot more to tell you about considering the amount of accoutrements needed for this class (stepper, yoga mat, light weights, heavier weights, and a  giant rubber band with handles) and my total lack of knowledge on how to use much of said accoutrements. However, I was pleasantly surprised that I actually held my own.  Whether or not its because I'm getting more comfortable taking classes, or because I was just so excited to not be on the spinning bike of doom is unclear, but I did keep up with no major problems.  One observation of note: there were a ton of really skinny toned people in the class.  Now, I can't say if this is a direct result of the sculpting class, but my intense desire to be in their 'club' leads me to believe that I may actually come back and try this one again.

spinning.

I. Hate. Spinning.  I HATE it.  Having just finished my first (and last) spinning class I can safely say there is no way in the history of the entire world that I will ever- EVER take another spinning class again.  Apparently some people really like spinning classes.  Several people actually recommended it to me.  A few of them even used the word love.  As in they 'loved' spinning and thought I would 'love' it too.  They were wrong.  So wrong that I'm questioning how well they know me.  I mean who really loves spending 55 minutes spinning on a bike going nowhere!?!  I'm sure there are a few redeeming qualities about the class, but I don't want to talk about them right now because my vagina bones hurt so much that I can't sit down.  

Besides going nowhere and never being able to sit again, I did have one really important realization while sitting at the first bike directly in front of the mirror, the door, and every attractive guy using the free weights at my gym:  I will never be one of those people who look cute while working out.  Its almost as if I am trying to look unattractive and mildly confused.  Don't worry though, I won't let it deter me from trying a few more classes this week.  

Zumba.

Allright folks, I hate to break it to you, but if you had plans to hang out with my friend Becky this weekend and watch Center Stage, then you're just going to have to get your own copy because I actually survived Zumba.  I may have been close to passing out repeatedly, and maybe I almost puked in my mouth a little, but I lasted the whole hour and I walked out by myself (as opposed to being carried out on a stretcher) so I'm counting it as a win.

I am unclear if it is because I am so grossly out of shape, or because my petite Latin dance teacher (a petiteacher if you will) wasn't letting up, but I spent the better part of 60minutes praying for mercy.  I employed all of the little tricks one does when they are grossly out of shape and need a quick break while keeping up the allusion they are not a chubby a-hole.  I fixed my pony tail, I stretched, I adjusted my shoe, and I even got water. Lots of water.  I haven't been that well hydrated in months.  And at some point, I gave up.  Its not what you think though.  I didn't throw in the towel- because frankly Becky and I hadn't been to the gym in so long we didn't know they moved the towels.  I just quit trying to get out of things and did them the best I could, and let me tell you a lot of the time my best was bad.  However at the end of class my bad hadn't gotten any worse, so I decided Zumba was a victory.  Sure the petiteacher gave me the stink eye after trip 12, 15, and 18 to my Nalgene bottle.  And yes I did accidentally punch Becky twice, which she has hopefully forgiven me for, but overall I'm going to go out on a limb here and say I would consider doing Zumba again.  Maybe.  O.k. I will.

Change of plans.

I won't bore you with the details, but it turns out today is not the day I start my cleanse.  For various reasons it wasn't a good idea for me to embrace broccoli juice and kale smoothies this week.  (I'm not chickening out though- I just need a few weeks before it happens.)  Instead I've decided this will be the week I find a class at the gym I like enough to actually go to.  

Going to the gym is weird.  I'm about as comfortable walking into a new class as I am going to a cooking convention under water where everyone speaks Swahili.  God forbid it is a class that involves apparatuses like weights or steppers or something...  However, in the spirit of giving it all I've got (at least for the week) I'm filling up my Nalgene, and lacing up my Reeboks.  Tonight we'll see how this 'Zumba' thing goes.*

*a special thank you to Becky for agreeing to go with me.  Also, Becky if you're reading this, in the event I don't survive tonight you can have my prized copies of both the DVD and VHS versions of center stage. You're the best.