Update: Keeping Promises = 1; Derek Morgan = 0 :(

January 26, 2011 § Leave a comment

I did it.

I went. And I am soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo proud of myself. I would pat myself on the back if I could move…

At first, I thought the most difficult part was the drive. My nerves were telling me to make a U-ball and fall into the loving arms of my couch (or, in my imagination, Derek Mor–err…Travis). But my mind (which technically controls my nerves) told me to grow a pair (anatomically speaking, this is impossible).

So I grew a pair and marched my butt into that gym and stood around awkwardly for about 5 minutes before class started. You know…pretending to yawn because it’s the only thing you can think of that won’t make people suspect that you are socially awkward…or standing around, rubbing your hand along your other arm all nervous like. Don’t do the last part. The yawning is much more effective.

Time went by slowly. I found myself yawning pretty much all the time. Then suddenly, the instructor said some stuff (in her muffled microphone voice) and people started running towards…oh no. NO. Dear God NO.

YES. IT WAS MY NEMESIS…the “AEROBIC STEPPER BENCH THINGY.” Bad memories…I had flash backs of aerobics class in gym, where I quickly learned that I did not possess the qualities of…well…anything to do with coordination. My mother (bless her soul) was kind enough to pass on the UCG (uncoordinated or ultimate clutz gene) to me, her one and only precious daughter…

Before things get ridiculous, and I stop making sense from my current state of delirium, let’s all take a deep breath. This is mainly for me because (as you will soon know) I am still a little oxygen deprived.

Some of the women in the class proudly boasted that they shall indeed elevate their ASBT to TWO (2) levels. The others, a bit confused as to how it was put together, were actually the smart ones and elevated their ASBTs to only one (1) level. Me, being the awesome, fit person that I am elevated my Nemesis to 2 levels. Wow, my IQ must be in the garbage, because at that point, something started to stink. Or maybe I just noticed that this is the normal smell of the gym…

In any case, about 5 minutes into the class, I started thinking, “Hey, this isn’t so bad.”

30 seconds later, I wanted to die.

That’s the problem with muscle toning. It’s all fine and dandy until you get to that point where your legs would rather be kicking psycho criminals’ butts with a certain hot BAU agent named Derek Morgan than stepping up and down on the ASBT for what seems like an eternal hell.

My thighs started shaking. My foot started cramping. My body was screaming STOP, but my mind was still in the garbage, looking for my common sense. I started smelling iron, and I was sure that I was going to get a bleeding nose, so I stopped breathing for a while just to let my poor dry nose recover…

And then it was all over.

Not the class. My coordination.

For the next 54½ minutes, I did everything I could to push myself to the end. Yes, my 1-2-3-4’s turned into 19-27-42-2-68-99-5833, but I made it work. I looked (and felt) like a complete fool, but I got through it all.

I knew it was over as soon as my instructor told us to give ourselves a “big hug”. I couldn’t. I forgot where my arms were. On the bright side, my mind finally found my intelligence and I ended up lowering my Nemesis to one level at about 30 minutes into the class (a number of 2-levellers also followed suit). It was like a paradise, except there’s no trees, no water, and you’re still in hell.

When I left the gym, I felt like I had forgotten something. I realized, as I pulled into my parking stall at home, that my instructor was probably bottling up what was left of my soul…you know…for “safe keeping”.

Next week, I’m going to try and get my soul back. Stay tuned for that adventure…

In the mean time, I have to satisfy the Hungry Monster that lives in my tummy.


Have you done something this week that you were pretty proud of?


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