Monday, November 28, 2011

The First Threshold

250. The first threshold.  I swear to God, last week I was 245.  I have no idea how I jumped ten pounds.  Well, okay, so it might have had something to do with the Chinese food, pumpkin pie, turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, and the chocolate covered caramels I consumed while practically crippled by a random strained back.  (Now that one, I REALLY have no idea about.  This having been my first experience with back pain from hell, I would gladly go the rest of my life without going through that again.)
                So, back to the first threshold.  I made my first steps in making my way back into the 240s today.  I took a Zumba class.  And while it’s called Zumba, I will probably think of it as “Humiliate the rhythm-challenged fat girl by surrounding her with mirrors, skinny pretties, and placing her ass smack dab in front of a window that looks over a weight room filled with hot men” class.  While I am sure this is the proper name, I can see why they may have shortened it.  Who would knowingly walk into that?
                I’m not going to lie, at one point while I was shaking my derriere in my best Shakira (okay, more like Shamu) fashion in front of the window, I considered bolting.  My keys and water bottle were directly behind me.  One quick spin move, and I could be gone (I was willing to sacrifice my towel).  Who could honestly blame me?  I’m sure some on the floor outside the class might even consider it a humanitarian effort worthy of award (cessation of cruel and unusual punishment is usually seen in a positive light, after all).  But, then I realized it would only ensure my continued impersonation of Shamu, and that is just not acceptable. 
                So, I took a deep breath, and shook it with the best of them.  Come hell or high water, I will face down the pretties, the mirrors, and yes, even the hotties beyond the window, all in the name of crossing thresholds.  250, you’re in my sights, and you’re going down.

1 comment:

  1. I had had similar problems when trying to work out alone the first time. (Luckily, my first Zumba class was with a friend so when I had missteps, she was right there shrugging it off with me!) You would be amazed at how little other people are focusing on you at the gym. I kept psyching myself out but then I realized that when I'm on the machines or doing whatever it is I happen to be doing, I'm so focused on me and what rep I'm on and how it's feeling, that others have to feel similarly. And if that's not true, well, it's like you said; it's either hide from it or continue on being unhealthy and heavy.
    Also, even if I wasn't heavy, I turn this really fantastic shade of red after working out. I have no hope in the world of looking pretty with a look like that lol!