I’ve spent the past six months getting into the worst shape of my life. You probably think this was easy, but let me tell you, it took a careful combination of tragic life events, excessive drinking and anxiety coupled with intermittent depression to get me as far as I got. And lest you think I didn’t notice or care, I actually signed up for a marathon along the way and five separate times even began a running routine. But then… stuff kept happening. My dad died. A dog bit me. It snowed a foot and the temps dropped below zero. My divorce took one frustrating and ugly turn after another. It was just so much easier to have a glass of wine and complain or binge eat sour gummies while reading through the phone & bank records confirming all of the terrible things I didn’t want to be true. I signed up for a 21-day challenge yoga thing I saw online. I did 1.5 of the days. But don’t worry, they’re all still in a folder in my gmail and I’ll get back to them. Surely, I will.
And then yesterday, I agreed to go on a trip to a warm location in two months with my skinny friend and her skinny sisters. And these girls like to take pictures.
So that’s it then. Time to get serious. I joined the YMCA online (after my nap) and vowed to go to my first exercise class today. And I did. Almost an hour AFTER the class is done, here’s how I still look:
That is a trademark tomato face. It runs in the Fruncillo family. It means that you have to plan your exercise for a time when you won’t have to do anything important for a few hours afterward because people will ask you if you’re ok. If you’re hot. If you’re ill. If you have high blood pressure. If you need to sit down. No. I’m just a Fruncillo. It’s just going to be red like this for a while. A long while.
I chose the Y because I had recalled with nostalgia the great shape I was in back in my thirties when I regularly went to step classes there. Yes. This will be great.
So today, I arrived early, ready to secure my place in the back of the class where it is safe and I can take as many breaks as I need and hopefully not even be noticed by the instructor and definitely not be asked publicly if “I’m new”. I did get a place in back and the class was so full, I mercifully could not even see myself in any of the mirrors. I have a giant, ugly bruise on my arm right now, which, along with the ghostly winter white skin, is fast tracking the self esteem to a dangerous new low. I have a solid feeling I am transforming into a jellyfish. I was next to a lady who was a bit overweight and definitely older than me. I struck up a conversation and found out she comes to this class regularly and she modifies for her bad knees. This was encouraging. Good. I got this.
So we start and at first I think, yeah, I do remember some of these moves. This will be ok. Then I stop for a water break before it’s time for the water break. Then, the instructor says we are only halfway done when I am pretty sure I might need to go to the hospital. I tell myself that it’s going to be fine. I start to modify. It’s my first day back! I got this.
I’m watching the clock and focusing on the people who are also modifying and suddenly, I notice a pregnant woman. And she is PREGNANT. Third trimester pregnant. And she’s not modifying. I shrug off the shame and focus on the fact that we only have 20 minutes left. And then suddenly, a woman who is up at the front of the class right next to the instructor starts running in between all of us and stopping to…. i don’t know….. motivate people??? Her calf muscles look like they’re about to bust through her beautiful skin and I know with every fiber of my being that she definitely doesn’t ever pass out on the couch instead of going up to bed, wake up with purple wine teeth, and then skip a morning work out class. Not that I’d know anything about that. She is giving out high fives. I will her not to come near me. I look over at my new friend and tell her that I’m pretty sure I’m going to die today. She doesn't laugh. Because I look like I can back that up.
By the end, I was mostly flailing my arms and legs around and trying not to trip over the step. The instructor said at one point, “Great job, back row” and my heart swelled with pride. And then we stretched out and I had my moment of glory, because despite my sedentary winter lifestyle, I am still pretty flexible. It’s the little things, people.
So, I did it. And here, with my tomato face and drenched hair, I know I’ll go back tomorrow.
As long as I don’t meet up with my friends for drinks tonight.
