I arrived at the Y today just in time to drop the kids off in their respective rooms and make it to a step class I've been wanting to try.
The last time I took a step class was in college and it was fun. I was in much better shape then and the girls' soccer team was there for cross training and did not take it seriously, everyone was tripping over their benches and giggling. I left repeatedly during the class to get water out in the hall. It was fun! Yay Step!
The first thing that happened when I got in there is that I accidentally stood next to some lady's bench for too long and she yelled at me. I skittered off to find my own bench and got set up far in the back corner. I was relieved that there were no mirrors in the room.
Finally, after several minutes of awkward standing around, the instructor came in. The instructor who could have beat the snot out of Jillian Michaels. With one finger.
"Is anyone here new to step?" she asked on the microphone, thumpy bass music pumping through the speakers. I knew enough not to raise my hand but the woman in front of me fell for her game.
The instructor laughed and said "Have fun! And if you get lost, just go back to step basic until you figure it out! Does anyone have any questions."
I wanted to raise my hand and say "You probably hear this all the time, but what happened to the rest of your ass? I mean, we're probably about the same height, but I'm guessing my ass is easily three times the size of yours. Will this class fix that?"
I refrained. The music got louder and suddenly it was time to "warm up."
Given that my most vigorous exercise in the last five years has been pedaling the elliptical just fast enough to make the headphones work, the warm up was all I needed to feel like I had had a really great workout. Then that was over and we started doing pushups on the bench. Three of them, on beat with the music, then snapping back up to standing, dancing from side to side for eight beats, then jogging for twelve, then jumping on and off the bench quickly in a jaunty little dance move I like to call "Satan's Quickstep".
Four or five of that series and then the universe smiled down on me and the song was over.
"Who's feeling GOOD? Who is ready to WORK?!" the instructor screamed through the microphone.
"SHIT" I said. Out loud. By mistake.
I looked around and wondered if anyone was CPR certified, but there was no time to waste because the music had started up again. I was totally lost, so I went back to step basic, as instructed. I was feeling pretty good about it until the the instructor pointed at me with her whole arm. She leveled her gaze at me and said something I could not understand over the microphone.
In my head it sounded like "Get your ass moving you chubby piece of trash!! There are no donuts here so stop looking around!!" but I could be mistaken.
I hung on through the rest of the next two songs but then the instructor said "OK, lower your benches one level because it's about to get HARD now!!" and I looked down at my bench, which was resting directly on the floor with no risers to take out, and decided that I suddenly needed to get home to finish that thing. And the other thing. And the other thing with the eating of peppermint bark and watching TV.