Weighty Matters

It is a good thing that fingers are the only thing required to move when typing....I think they are currently my only functioning body part. Today, I put my pride to the side, and participated in a new (for Me) class at my Gym. I am stalled in my weight loss, and feeling kind of Rut stuck with Zumba. The cute little girl at the front desk told me I might really like "Active"...the name should have been my first clue.
  The description went something like this -"part step aerobics, part weight lifting. It's fun....you'll love it......."
   This morning I arrived at the appointed hour, and to my consternation, 95 percent of the room FULL of participants looked like Malibu Barbie! Golden tresses slicked back into a gorgeous high ponytail, or elaborate braids artfully tucked into a bun. And as a side note, may I say that I was unaware that spandex could actually BE THAT TIGHT!
    Over in the far corner were a woman in her 40's and a younger girl in gym shorts and a baggy tee....MY TRIBE!! I made my way to that side of the room, introduced myself as new, and asked what equipment I might need. Before you know it, I was set up - step, risers, dumbbells, flat disc weights and yoga mat.
    First up, the step....not too bad - my knees offered only the slightest of protestations, and it was a great cardio workout. Then came the weights.....I wisely chose lighter dumbbells. The instructor is shouting words of encouragement - 20 more - 15 more..."Ladies, don't lift the weights too high in this one - just to right under your chest".....ummmmm......I thought we were supposed to be lifting the weights - if I lifted to just under my chest, what with nursing three babies and gravity, well - lets just say I wouldn't get much benefit from the activity! I quickly looked at the beautiful people, saw how high they were raising their elbows, and followed suit. I will NOT say how far above my chest that movement required.
   Next, some floor work on the angled step unit....not too bad, until the instructor shouted" Now quick, up on your feet"...........to the amusement of the lovelies around me, they were halfway through their next set of standing weight moves before I hauled my carcass up off the floor...the room is fully mirrored, so I don't even have to imagine what I looked like....I had a 360 view!
   Sweaty, hair flying everywhere, I was overjoyed to hear "OK, now lay out your mats, this LAST section will be done in a prone position"....Down went the weights, I grabbed a Yoga mat off of the pile in the back, laid it in my space and..........I became a body in motion! My foot stepped on the mat, which was slicker than Goose S*#t, and away I went, surfing through the ranks of the young, beautiful, lanky, young enough to be my daughter populace. I must say, my balance was impressive, aided by the flailing of my arms, and the swaying of my hips. In a last ditch effort to stop my surfboard of a yoga mat, I hopped off, and stuck the dismount with a two footed landing. Mustering all of the dignity I had left, which let me tell you was minuscule, I gathered up my mat, returned to my place, and quickly laid down upon it.
   I finished the class, returned my equipment to the proper place, and headed out the double doors of the class room to my reward. Just to the right is Nirvana itself.....a small passageway with a gigantic  wall fan on either side. You push the big red button, and it becomes a wind tunnel. Given that wind is just about my favorite thing in the world, those 45 seconds of being buffeted by the giant fans is often the highlight of my day. There, standing in my unadulterated bliss, hair flying EVERYWHERE - I noticed the lovelies, exiting the class room, makeup still perfection, nary a hair out of place. They stared, aghast at my dishabille. I heard a few of them giggling, as they walked away.
   And this is how I know just. how. far. I. have. come.   I will BE their entertainment. Let them exit, laughing about that crazy older lady. I will return to this class tomorrow. Because the joke is on them. At 89 pounds lighter, I can lift weights. I can use a step for aerobics. I can get down on the floor, and even get up. I have won the victory.....thanks be to God, for the laughter of this day.

Oh, and By The Way - if I see you this afternoon, and give you that teenage boy head nod as a greeting, it's because I can't lift my arms above my chest (and we all now know how low that is) to wave.