There is a class at our gym that's extremely intense. It's the hardest class the gym offers (so I've been told) and after talking to some women who frequently attend (and also have arms bigger than my husband) it sounded just crazy enough to try. What did I have to lose? Other than the full functioning capacity of my muscles?
I first attended a little over a month ago, just as I was trying to get better after having bronchitis. Obviously, a dumb move. The class was no joke! It was a weight training day and I had half the weight the other girls did and kept stopping to hack up a lung and I was still dead. But I thought maybe I could do better when I felt better.
Flash forward to today when I finally made it to class to try it again. I won't lie, I was nervous. The instructor started class with dividing us into two groups. She sent one group to start on the cardio portion while we started on weights. Through sheer peer pressure and intimidation by the size of her muscles, she made us grab the biggest dumb bells available and start working our biceps. We ran through a cycle of different workouts that left my arms feeling like jelly. I've been to enough classes to know that one round wasn't going to cut it. I lost track at 5. We constantly pumped our arms and ripped our biceps for 10 entire minutes. Nonstop. With heavy weights. I have never in my existence experienced pain like that. I literally couldn't move my arms. They were frozen in the position of a bicep curl.
As soon as we set the weights down she shoved us out the door to go run stairs for 10 minutes while the other group did their biceps. I guess I shouldn't say she shoved US out the door. All the other girls in the class were pretty dang fit and were halfway out the door before my brain had registered that I had set the dumb bells down and needed to stand back up and not stay hunched over, frozen in pain. The other girls knew what was expected of them and had set off like they were defending their country against all things, foreign and domestic. And there I was, hardly able to think straight my arms ached so bad.
I watched in embarrassment as two 36 weeks pregnant women zoomed past me out the door to go run their stairs. Surely if they could do this, then I could, too! I gathered my composure and set out the door after them.
We reached the stairs and they all started taking off. I was keeping up, and I never had to stop and rest, but I was huffing and puffing like a smoker trying to run a marathon. All the other girls were casually carrying on conversations like they were at a BBQ with their feet soaking in a pool. Be cool, I told myself. It's your first day. You'll get there. It doesn't matter that these women will be giving birth in the next few days, which means they're bouncing around an extra 20 pounds in their uteruses and not even breaking a sweat. Don't let that get to you.
After our little party on the stairs (and yes, we ran them nonstop for at least 10 minutes) we were back in the classroom destroying the crap out of our triceps. Again the paralyzingly pain returned after completing all sets of the super-human exercises the teacher had concocted.
This time for cardio, we were instructed to go sprint on the treadmill at a pace of 9 mph or faster and we could take a brief walk if we needed to recover, but then we had to be right back to it as soon as we could. This time I hurried to the door to be amongst the group and not look so stupid. Running wasn't something I was unfamiliar with so I was kind of excited for this one, even though I don't run at that ridiculous of a pace. I began to feel a little more confident after we were summoned back to the classroom for another beating. I was keeping up pretty well for my first time! Maybe I was in better shape than I thought?
After a crazy shoulder shredding, we were once again kicked out and instructed to "go as fast as we could on the elliptical at the highest resistance that we could do". This time, I was practically sprinting out the door! I was determined to prove myself!
While heading up the stairs to the elliptical machine, I got to talking to one of the pregnant girls:
Me: so when are you due?
Girl: 4 weeks from today.
Me: that's exciting (or something like that)
...more baby talk ensued...
Girl: so is this your first time in this class?
Me: my first real time, yes. I came about a month ago but I was sick so it was a disaster. This is the first Monday I've had free so I wanted to come try it again. I'm loving it so far. This is pretty intense!
Girl: yeah, it's a great class! This is the perfect day to start out, too because the teacher is taking it so easy today. Last week she about killed us so this is our break. She can be pretty brutal".
Whatever confident wind I had in my sails stopped blowing at that very moment. I'm sorry, did you say this was an EASY day?! There I was, dripping in sweat, my arms ached so badly I didn't know how I was going to pick up my daughter when the class was done, and my heart was pounding in my ears. The only thing making me feel better was knowing I was at least keeping up. Barely, but I was there. And now she tells me it's an EASY day?!
I thought maybe she was just a punk and was yanking my chain but on our next torturous round of ab workouts the teacher apologized to the class for being so easy on us. And some actually looked irritated at her for that being the case. Who were these people?! I began to feel totally inadequate and was beginning to resolve to sticking with my usual classes I go to, but then, for the first time in an hour, I started to really look around the room at the kinds of people who were in attendance.
I don't want to be muscly. I think that's gross, and there were some really muscly women there. But there were also some sickly fit, healthy girls there, too, who looked amazing. Not only that, I really noticed what a support group they had going on. Everyone had a friend or group they were talking to and exercising with. They weren't competing with each other or trying to prove anything to anyone. They were there to get in a great workout and transform their bodies. I'm sure every single one of them started out just like me at one point. Instead of finding the group intimidating and scary, I suddenly found them to be inspirational. I had done awesome for my first time. I may lack the ability to move my arms at all for the next couple days, but I'm that much stronger now. What's wrong with that?
So I told myself then and there that I was going to go to this class as often as my schedule allows. This is something I want to try and get better at. And according to the other girls, you never do the same thing twice. Ok, you really do, but it's mixed up a lot.
So, wish me luck as I embark on my journey of keeping up with fitness robots and trying not to die. Hopefully some day I'll leave without a genuine concern for a heart attack and the inability to lift anything heavier than my keys.
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