One Pound

04/06/10

290.2 lbs

Attention Amanda!  I lost myself a pound!  WOOHOO!  I am so freakin happy right now. 

I really have been pissed about the whole not losing pounds thing.  I've been discouraged.  I've been downtrodden even.  I've been whiney and wimpy.  Well, maybe not wimpy.  I haven't stopped excersicing.  I haven't binged. Well, I did go see a movie with my mom over Easter weekend.  I wanted to order two small popcorns and two waters.  We ended up with one large popcorn and two medium cokes.  It was cheaper that way.  I don't have much more to say about that.

My point is I haven't given up.  I have carried on like a little trooper.  With a big tummy.  A very big tummy.  And I'm so not carrying babies in there.  I have subjected myself to public display of working-out-ness among people like SG Duo and lots of other skinny chicks and muscley men.  I have pushed myself so far out of my comfort zone that the only thing left to conquer is walking naked in a crowded shopping mall or, worse yet, be in a bathingsuit at the lake. 

Let me tell you about last night.  I totally went to that hiphop workout class.  It's an hour long.  O.M.G.  Firstly, most of the people in there are thin.  The teacher is a brick house dancing machine.  People who are not in shape are still ten times fitter than I am.  At least.  So we start out by a little bit of marching and boucning to the music.  My first session with She-Devil (see yesterday's post) has taught me to be wary of the whole marching thing.  Actually, I think I'm developing a phobia.  Marching is an omen of bad things to come.

Anyway, SAG, BB and I are all standing there nervously giggling, not because anything is funny, but because we're all nervous.  I've never been to a workout class. E-V-E-R ever.  I have no idea what this is about.  I've watched workout videos before but these are things I recognize as like exercise or something.  This is loud pop music remix to which we learn steps. And then we put the steps together.  I have a new respect for Dancing with the Stars. 

This stuff was crazy.  Firstly, I have established many times over I'm particularly thick  in the middle.  I've got big legs and big ass, but it's a flat ass and my legs are pretty damn solid.  What I have a whole lot of is that Jiggle in the Middle.  Hip Hop requires a lot of shaking hips and wiggling ass and jumping and kicking and overall stuff that jiggling just isn't down with.  In case you didn't know. OH Yeah, the room is like one big mirror.  E-GAD.  Add that to the mix of motion and you can imagine the horror movie I was about to watch.  With me as the star. This was gonna be bad. 

I have to admit, I almost walked out.  I almost got to the point of giving up but all I could think of was the one pound that I wanted to lose.    I pushed myself to give this a one whole class effort.  I got a little frustrated, but only because I couldn't learn the steps fast enough.  For the first 20 minutes I thought that it really wasn't that bad.  Except for looking like a complete fool and not being able to move in a coordinated fashion, the workout itself was not that taxing.  Then we move into phase 2. 

Alright, things are moving faster, I somewhat  have down everything from phase 1 and am really picking up the steps of this section.  I'm also sweating a bit.  Awesome!  Ok, the end of this 15 minute section I'm really huffing and puffing.  My shirt keeps pulling up in front and now I know why gym people like their clothes so fitted.  With all the moving around, I'm constantly having to pull things down, adjust the shorts, fix the bra, all sorts of things.  I go for water.  The Girls are dying too.  Sweat and Missteps.  I feel a little better about it. 

So we're called back from our water break and start building on what we've learned on phase 1-2.  This one involves jumping and gyrating.  Shit.  NO ONE wants to see a fat person jump and gyrate.  Especially the fat person.  It's just not a pretty picture.  I caught a few glimpses, and I can't get the images out of my mind. 

I work it out with my own version of a jump and gyrate.  I have never been more caucasian in my life.  EVER.  Another 10 minutes pass and we get another water break.  My body is beginning to die on me.  I'm starting to feel the shaking again.  My body gets to a certain point in exercise and it begins to shake; like on the ellypticals and I feel like I could vibrate my way around the gym.  I've been told it's because I'm pushing my muscles to the point of exhaustion which is good.  I don't get it. 

Well, we've got 15 minutes left and I really don't know how I'm gonna make it.  We've got a 10 minute final session and then we move to our 5 minute cool down.  I really don't remember the final 10 minutes.  I know I didn't pass out.  I know that I didn't fall down or break anything.  The only thing I can figure is that I blocked it out due to the emotional scarring all that jiggle and gyrating had on my poor psychie.  I seriously doubt that anything I did in that final 10 minutes looked like dance moves, but at least I kept moving and didn't just fall out right there on the floor.  I wanted to.  But I didn't.  I wanted to wretch at the end of the night.  I may have to equate marching with feelings of near wretching.  They seem to go hand-in-hand. 

That's not even talking about how I felt when I got home.  I hate that class. 

I'm going again tomorrow night.

-jafg