The following week, the office was closed on Monday so there was no class. That, however, did not provide any escape for me. Anita is quite dedicated to reforming all of us, so she scheduled a one-off class on Friday instead. I did the kick-box class on Tuesday (which is still my favorite,) and had to decide between strength and spin on Friday. I decided that if I was going to get in the swing of the new class, I needed to not take excuses to skip it - so I blew off spin and went to the strength class.
Apparently, Anita believes in variety - completely different routine. I'm sure that this is probably good FOR me, but it means that I have no idea how she's going to torture me from one week to the next. I wasn't able to do nearly as much at that class as I had at the first. At the first class, all of my muscles were still blissful tenderloins. The second time around I had done terrible things to them after thirty years of inactivity, and they were still pretty outraged. I expected it to be harder, but not that much harder.
Then I got two days off, and on Monday I got to do it again. Sigh. This one is discouraging. I know it's good for me - I can feel by the way I hurt that it's good for me, and that it's something I should keep doing. But it's really soul crushing to realize that I'm almost 44 years old, and I'm STILL the chubby girl in gym class who just can't do it. I'm glad I didn't start with this class, because I don't know if I would have tried the others. It's hard. Obviously physically, but also emotionally. This one is producing all SORTS of bad high school gym class flashbacks. There's a reason I gave up all forms of physical exercise the moment I left high school - I'd rather be fat than mocked and in pain. Now, don't get me wrong - it's a pretty non-judgmental space, and Anita encourages us to modify things and respect our limits. But it's still hard to be the bottom of the barrel, and to know that when she says "do what you can - we have all levels of fitness here" that she means ME.
Why yes, I AM over-analyzing. It's what I do.
Tuesday was kick. Yesterday was spin. I missed two spin classes - and I could feel it. But there's another thing going on. Somehow, every class that I'm taking involves lots and lots of work on the quads - and I haven't asked them to do much of anything for years. So my legs are in a wee bit of shock, and I discovered yesterday that I wasn't able to push as hard. Previously, I was going so hard that what gave out first was my cardiovascular system - I either couldn't get my breath, or would get a bit lightheaded from how hard my heart was beating, and that's when I would have to back off a bit. Yesterday, well before I got to that point my quads made it clear that if didn't back off NOW, they *would* just dump me off the bike onto the floor. I assume that will get better with time, but for now, they're a wee bit outraged.
I've learned things. I've learned that I have triceps, and that I haven't used them for forty years. I've learned that when you're female and have sudden stabbing/gnawing pain in the breast tissue, the first thing you think is "OMG - TUMOR!!!" not "oh - we worked the pecs yesterday." Only for about three seconds, but it's an intense three seconds... I've learned the terms "lats" and "serratus." I've learned that I still dislike pain and sweating, and that I just don't get that endorphin rush that everyone talks about. My reward is making it to the end of the hour.
But I'm still doing it.