Every so often I think of my days in terms of major milestones, like, "And from then on, I cut dessert out of my vocabulary," or "I just made my mind up that I was gonna write my spec script."
"Today was the day I got obsessed with working out, which led to me losing 35 pounds!" sounded so promising.
So that's how I found myself at "Bodyworks Plus Abs" at LA Fitness. It only took two minutes of the class for those thoughts to re-emerge. "You are not these girls in the class who can do these things. Your body has never been able to do these things. You are a person for people to laugh at, not a person who can do the mountain-climb-knee-jump. Quit. Do it. Walk out. Cry. Really, it's only two minutes in. There's no way you are lasting the whole hour." And then the by-product limbs start hurting, like when the Nazi-woman wants you to do these deep lunges, and all I can focus on is the searing pain from that toe on my right foot with the potential fungal infection. In fact, let's upgrade "potential" to "definite" at this point.
And then I start making deals with myself. "Okay, Jess, you want to be in Hair? You need to do the full forty jumping jacks." But then I start jumping, and I realize that my jumps don't look like everyone else's- they somehow have a slight infusion of palsy- and I think, no one will want to watch me in Hair anyway, that's for the sexy, limber people. Stop while you're ahead and play up the awkward manatee you are.
About half-way through I ran out. I just ran. I went into the hall, and I saw some guys smirking at me. I SWEAR. They knew I couldn't hack it as a physically fit girl. They would never hit on me at a bar because I am not the type that those guys go for. They only go for girls that actually like classes like Bodyworks Plus Abs. I lingered for a bit by the water fountain just to make it look like I was not a refugee, and then I gathered up what dignity I had left and re-entered the class, praying it was no longer you-are-a-dog-on-a-fire-hydrant time.
I somehow survived the rest of the class, but I did not get that feeling of accomplishment. In fact, not only did I feel like shit psychologically, but I think I tore something in my back. No joke.
Why was I born an octogenarian??? Can someone explain how you get yourself to enjoy the gym?
