Before I start, I’m up 2.6 lbs for the week. Hormone hell-week has commenced. I expect better numbers next week.
I was very nervous. I don’t really fit well into new social situations. I’m pushing 30, married, but no kids. I drive a semi truck to California and back every week, yet I live in the Beverly Hills of the South. I’m lily white but crank Tupac and Jay-Z in Dolly Parton, my trusty Acura (everyone names their cars, right? RIGHT??) I’m from the uber conservative Bible Belt of central Alabama, yet I’m as liberal as they come. You get the picture. I’m a social outcast pretty much.
So rolling up to Pure Barre in Buckhead this morning, I felt really out of place. I purchased my class online (their system is super easy to use, you can buy packages and schedule classes, AWESOME time saver). Dolly Parton parked among the BMWs and Mercedes of the group and it kind of made me feel like I should’ve driven my husbands BMW just to blend.
I stood outside among women who all talked to each other and not to me. It’s ok, they knew each other from other classes I assume. Then I realized that I was the fattest person there.
They were all tiny.
The largest size there may have been an 8. And that’s a stretch.
I had body envy.
I’m their worst nightmare. I’m the reason they go to Pure Barre in the first place. I’ll take being an inspiration any way I can, even if it’s so people don’t end up like me. Because obesity sucks, y’all. It’s an avoidable battle that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. I got over my urge to cry and walked into the building.
Self pity is not progressive. Moving your ass is.
Upon entering the class, I approached the desk and signed in. I had already read a few reviews online and knew that I would need some grippy socks. I contemplated wearing either my old ballet shoes or these:
I inquired about them and I guess the instructor didn’t want me to waste my $ if it was my only class, so she said that I could just use the socks I had on. Bad move. I had a twenty dollar bill. I should have bought the socks (for $12 and some change). My feet slid all over the place. Live and learn.
Here comes my first screw up of the class. Somehow I was so nervous I didn’t see the sign that said to remove your shoes before walking into the classroom. I totally spaced it and felt like a huge dummy. Me, the worlds largest germaphobe, broke a sanitation rule. Of COURSE no one wanted to work out on a floor that had shoe grime on it. I felt the need to apologize to my fellow classmates, but I just won’t make that mistake again. Another lesson learned.
The I grabbed a stretchy tube, two small hand weights, and a little ball and found a spot on the floor where I thought I’d have the best view of the teacher. The music was great! Remixes of popular music, upbeat with enough bass in it to get you going. The class started out quickly and really feels like a blur now that it’s over. We worked our legs, rear ends, and abs– oh, the abs how we worked them… Exercises were moved from standing positions, to the floor, to the barre and back, using the tubing, weights, and ball. Small, quick movements really made you feel it and burn in a hurts so good kind of way. I was pouring sweat. I concentrated on my breathing and the instructor. She did a fantastic job of motivating us through the class. My thighs were quivering within the first 5 minutes of the 55 minute class. There was a time during the class that I wasn’t sure I could finish. And just like magic, she said “30 more seconds! You can do ANYTHING for 30 seconds!” and that spoke to me.
I can do anything for 30 seconds.
I can do anything for 30 minutes.
I can do anything for 55 minutes.
I’ve been on this path to healthy living since July 31st of last year and my life has gotten better and better.
I can do any damn thing I please with this lumpy, capable, strong body.
And I did.
And it won’t be this way forever because I’m changing it every single day.
The class ended and I jetted outside to get some fresh air. When I climbed in Dolly, I checked my face in the mirror. As always with a workout, tomato red. My arms and legs were shaking so bad I wasn’t sure I could drive home so I sat there a few minutes and reflected on what I’d just done.
Pushing yourself out of your comfort zone, especially as an obese person, is hard. But it’s necessary. Fat people retreat into themselves and don’t socialize and participate in group activity. I’ve spent the better part of the last 10 years that way. No more.
I’m signing up for a monthly pass so I can take as many Pure Barre classes as my weekly home schedule allows. Something about standing at that barre took me back to every year of the 15 I spent in dance classes. It was comfortable and familiar. I even caught myself smiling through the sweat. I’m hooked.
Check out a Pure Barre class in your area. They have an awesome website!