For as long as I can remember, I’ve never been good in exercise classes. In grade school when teams were being chosen for kickball, I was one of those kids who was always picked last (and you thought that was just made-up movie stuff, didn’t you?) It’s true. I sucked at sports. I was such a girl. Dodgeball was terrifying and I’d cower instead of run when someone had me in his sights. In my defense however, kids are downright mean. Who stands 3 feet away from you and throws a ball at your head with all their might? I’m pretty sure that I went to school with a bunch of repressed sadists.
Then came middle school. Volleyball wasn’t any better. I wasn’t aggressive enough to run after the ball and lob it back into the air. There was always someone else who wanted it more, so I thought it was more polite to stand back and encourage my teammate to be the best she could be (how’d you like that clever excuse??)
Softball in high school? Nope. Always ended up in the outfield where I spent a lot of time by myself singing Michael Jackson songs and learning how to make that cracking sound with my gum.
Last but not least, Thursdays were generally saved for gymnastics. We’d drag out those smelly blue gym mats and had to practice cartwheels, somersaults and headstands. Even though I went through the motions, all I could think about was, ‘but, what if I land wrong and my neck snaps in half?’
I ask you, is there truly any wonder why I still don’t know how to ride a bike? I think not.
Here is the interesting thing: I am finding that summer 2011 is turning into the Summer of Me, (which I know, sounds like a really bad title to an Afterschool Special). My weight may not be exactly where I’d like it to be, but sweet, supportive readers of mine – I’m doing some serious movin’ and shakin’ over here, and can honestly say that I’ve done more mentally challenging things in the past couple of months than I have, literally, in years. Kayaking has shown me that I’m not some uncoordinated doofus; taking a fairy garden taught me to take advantage of opportunities when they present themselves, and becoming friends again with my paintbrush has me reconnecting with my creative side.
Adding to that list, I want you all to know that I DID IT. I signed up for Yoga Classes. And not only did I sign up – because truly, a girl can always just ‘sign up’ and then turn around and talk herself right out of something, am I right? Well, I wasn’t going to take any chances.
I paid ahead.
For a month.
And classes don’t carry over.
So in other words, if I don’t go, then I’ve just agreed to give my yoga instructor a seriously generous tip for doing nothing more than entering my credit card information into her computer system (which seems a bit forward since we just met). Voluntarily taking an exercise class is a HUGE comfort zone challenge for me – and rightfully so, given the awkward, gawky tweenage memories I shared above.
I got out of my car in the parking lot on Monday, I shut the door and repeated out loud, ‘I’ve blogged about this. Can’t back out.’ Let me tell you, it got me into the door. And, I know that once my first class is over, I’ll feel tons better. It’s the initial fear that can be such a manipulator!
My first class begins next Wednesday. I’m looking forward to the day when I can calmly look a bully in the eye and say, ‘Don’t mess with me, buddy. I’m very bendy.’