Gym class (heroes?)

I hated it as a kid. Big mistake! (I am used to blaming my mum for not putting my ass on a treadmill from the moment she discovered my huge appetite for...everything!)
I was the worst when it came to running, jumping, throwing heavy balls, throwing any balls, for that matter and I was just a mockery masterpiece of how not to use the gym equipment. However, as growing older made me grow bigger (on both axes!), I realized the need to decrease my appetite and width. The first one proved to be indestructible, however, my stubborn mind was set on doing workouts to try cope with the shapes of my body.
I have to tell you now, if you are not really good at remembering and you are giving up easily, going to group fitness is just not for you.
At my first day I was having Steps for Beginners. Beginners my ass! I felt like the dumbest non-blond on the planet. It seemed as if one of my feet was made out of marshmallows and the other one was cut out of wood! They both moved independently from what my mind wanted and I believe independently from any logical pattern known to humans. The whole process was further complicated by the existence of the step, which proved to be a torture weapon, or so my bum thought at the end. All joints in my body were challenged to twist my unobeying limbs at angles, known only to the enlightened in the sacrament of the routine. And they had to do so in a timely manner under the count of our lovely (blond!) teacher. Thanks to that I can now count to 8, say left/right and down in Dutch. I honestly hope one day I get to shout ‘Laag!!!!!!!!!!!!’ to someone with the same passion that chica put into the word.

Still, not able to control my feet and fighting their resistance, I did my best to remember the order of the workout routine. I have to admit, I considered quitting visiting (and using) the famous Amsterdam coffee shops then and there. A tablespoon must have had more remembrance span than me at that point. Just as I learned a new move, the previous one slipped out of my mind, as if there was not enough space in there for both of them. My arms were almost as inconsistent in their movement as my feet, but I believe they were at least thankful there was no step for them to work on. Otherwise I bet my body would have hated me for quite some time. At a certain point, I was so focused on doing the moves that I forgot to breathe. In case you don’t know it, it is not a good thing to forget that particular function of your lungs. It hurts. And then you get to be the same color as a jar of cheap marinara sauce.

However, as the torture hour finished, as a pure surprise to me, I felt happy. So happy, that I was looking forward to the next time I get to fight with my cardio-vascular, muscle and nervous systems. Now I can safely say I am better. I learned most of the steps, combinations and elaborations, therefore I am not an absolute failure. But just yesterday I saw a girl struggling with her first class. I thought she’ll feel the same way I did after the class is done and be running back for more the next time. She left after the first 20mins.

Being stubborn is not for everybody. The same applies for steps.