Baggy Bras & Butt Floss

Today was the day. The workout class I promised you all I would attend and participate in. I woke up before my alarm and it felt like the first day of school. At first I was taking my time getting ready before waking the kid up, but then I remembered that my husband is out a car and I had to take him to work before my class. Crap!

“Jeremiah! Babe! G.e.t. u.p!! I cannot be late to my first workout class!!”

It just so happen to be staff picture day, so a shower and extra attention to the hair do was a must. The universe hates me.

We manage to all get out the door on time and I complain the whole way about how none of my sports bras fit and I feel way too “airy” to be attending a workout class but I can’t come here and tell you all that I conveniently skipped out on my fitness torture because of a baggy bra!! And can we talk about leggings? What the heck are you supposed to wear, ahem, under them? Because nobody wants to see panty lines, but really who wants to be doing lunges and jumping jacks in a thong? Well, me, apparently. Sigh.

Anyhow, I get to the class on time, in all my baggy bra and butt floss glory. This is going to be a disaster.

There were about 6 of us, strollers in tow, and we started out in a circle doing p90x stretchy type warm up things. The instructor of the class was an adorable little thing that looks better 7 months pregnant than I do…well, ever. And she had on a cute little matching workout getup that had me totally jelly. As we are doing these sides step, arm cross things, she asks us to go around and introduce ourselves and tell about an easy dinner recipe we love.

She starts by introducing herself and describing this beautiful zucchini, chicken, and spinach layered casserole something and I’m telling y’all she never missed a beat. All I could think about was how in the h-e-double-hockey-stick I was going to talk in full sentences and not look like Carlton trying to do these step arm punch things in good timing. Have you ever tried this before? She might as well have asked me to pat my head, rub my tummy, and sing Mmmbop at the top of my lungs. Mercy.

I’m last up in the circle, and pretty much every woman before me had described something that involved spinach, vegetables or an otherwise healthy ingredient (except one gal who added Dr. Pepper to her pork. Now we’re talkin’!) and all I could think about were zucchini brownies. BROWNIES, people!

“I’m Keri. This is Hazel. She’s 16 months old. I made zucchini brownies. But they didn’t have any flour?? And I used honey. And almond butter and zucchini and lots of chocolate. Wait– can I talk about chocolate at a workout class?”

Really, Keri!? You couldn’t think of something else? You had to go with brownies?! Way to be that girl. The one that talks about CHOCOLATE at a WORKOUT CLASS.

Good grief. I should have stopped then.

I expected this to be hard. You know, since the only workout I’ve done since high school is the few hours of natural childbirth I endured last year. I expected to be out of breath, unattractively covered in sweat stains, and possibly crying (weeping, moaning, whathaveyou). But I kept thinking, “This is a group of moms. Surely I’m not the only one that’s out of shape.”

Uhm…

So after we do our warm up thingies and some jogging in place, we take off speed walking down to the other corridor of the mall. I was feeling good. I could feel a little burn and I was trying to tense up my ab muscles while walking. You know, because I like pain.

We reached the other end of the world mall and adorable instructor starts describing the next workout we are going to do. She mentions something about thanking the “insanity workout” for this one. Hmm, never heard of it.

It’s a full squat with arms down–jump up (arms up) and hit your feet together in the air–down to full squat (and she meant full, dang it)–jump up. She said the pregnant ones could just come up to tip toes and my lord I have never wanted to fake a pregnancy so bad. She says we are going to do them for a minute and so off a’jumping I go! I get through like a hundred of them (ok, maybe 8) and I hear her say “ok, one minute here we go, ready….start!”

Wait, what? We weren’t starting already? Oh right. I knew that. Those were just practice jumps.

$%!@#

So after a “minute” of doing these, the corners of my vision start getting black, and not because there’s sweat in my eyes.

Ok, yeah, I’m pretty dizzy. Stupid. Keep going. It’s supposed to be miserable. It’s supposed to be miserable. Oh man, I’m nauseous. Please tell us to stop!

She calls time and we take a break to get some water. I’m eyeballing all the nearest trash cans and blinking really hard trying to shake the dizziness.

Adorable instructor says “Alright, by now you should be out of breath and you should be glistening”

The other moms smile and nod cheerily in agreement as I pant heavily and hide behind my stroller guzzling water, trying to pull the freaking underwear out of my butt crack.

I go another round but can only do the tip toes. You know…the one for pregnant people.

You know what’s weird? I didn’t even feel worn out. My legs felt like they were going numb, but I was enjoying the burn. I kept getting dizzier, though.

We were instructed to take off to the next corridor of the mall so off I went. The adorable instructor comes along side me and asks if I ate breakfast.

Wellllllllll…..

I did have a couple bites of almond butter. I really don’t feel like my blood sugar is low. I’m not shaky or weak or disoriented.

I kept thinking if I just walked briskly it would go away and I’d be fine. This is so embarrassing. The wrinkly old men with walking sticks were passing me up.

“I think I might have to go. I can’t seem to shake this dizziness or nausea.”

I said that. To the pregnant lady. The one kicking my butt in the fitness department.

I took the walk of shame back to my car. I could feel all the old people watching me. Snickering. At least, it felt like they were.

Oh yeah?! Well at least I didn’t pee myself and don’t wear diapers…you…old person…………you. 

I debated the whole way back whether I should sit down to keep from passing out or if I should haul butt to my car to get the air blasting on my face. I opted to haul. Poor Hazel was probably wondering what the heck was going on. I (somehow) got her and the stroller packed away and the a/c going. After I could see straight we headed out, tail between my legs (literally!).

I spent the next few hours thinking about what a stinking wimp I am and cursing my body for embarrassing me like a red headed step child. I talked to my friend (who is one of the other instructors, and also a chiropractor) and was telling her about what happened. When I told her I didn’t feel like it was bloodsugar, she asked “do you have adrenal issues?”.

Sweet Jesus please let her tell me it has something to do with that and I’m not just a total loser.

I just so happen to have a history of adrenal fatigue (google it) and keep forgetting to take my supplements for it. She told me that the adrenal fatigue causes blood pressure to be off and would explain why I get dizzy even after just picking something up off the floor (much less doing the…what’s it called? INSANITY WORKOUTS!). She said I shouldn’t have been doing any up-and-down type exercises.

This is the part where you all think in your head about what a dork I am making up bogus excuses for my sorry fitness disposition. It’s not nice to make fun of people with adrenal disabilities. Jerks.

That’s ok. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Now the fact that I can’t walk straight might have something to do with my ridiculously out of shape muscles. That, or its the thong. Yeah, I’ll go with that.

I’m going to Starbucks….