I am not the healthiest person by any stretch of the imagination. I drink a ton of pop, eat a lot of pizza, eat very few vegetables (blech!) and I don’t exercise. However, I realize that this is not good and I am attempting to change at least one of these things. Since I love pop and pizza too much to give them up, and I hate vegetables too much to consider eating them, I’m trying to force myself to start working out.
Fuck. My. Life.
First, I tried work-out classes. Fuck classes. Even with a sports bra made out of concrete and steel cable I bounce like I’m on a damn trampoline. I am also incredibly self-conscious about it. Should I be? Probably not; nobody at those classes looks that much better than I do. However, it doesn’t seem to matter how many times I tell myself that. My anxiety insists that everybody is staring at me and my bouncing, fleshy body. They are all staring and they are all judging. It isn’t a pleasant feeling and almost always has me fleeing for the exit the second class is over.
Yoga! I tried that, too. However, my body does not bend that way. I am not made of silly putty and pipe cleaners. I am fat and out of shape and I sweat quite a bit. Sweating means that you slide. Specifically, you slide off the yoga mat. How do I keep from sliding off the yoga mat? The easy response is, “stop sweating.” But to stop sweating I have to stop yoga-ing. This is not conducive to being a healthier person.
Socks on the hands? Nope, those just slide, too. Rubber gloves? They keep you from sliding but then the sweat is in the goddamn glove and it is so incredibly disgusting. Apparently, there are special mats you can buy or special towels you can use. I’m a broke college student, though. Splurging for a $30 yoga mat is not practical. Just… no.
Also, yoga classes? No. Just no. Maybe it’s just the one I went to but it was so crowded. We were packed in so closely that the mats almost overlapped and if I spread my arms out too far I hit somebody. I sweated a crap ton and ended up slipping and sliding off my mat. Also, I do not bend that way. So now, not only am I trying to bend in ways that I do not bend and face-planting into my mat (and bouncing), but everybody can see it. There’s that anxiety again telling me that everybody is staring and judging and aaaaaaaaaagh!
The instructor came over at one point and asked, “How you doing?” My verbal response was, “Not great.” My internal response was, “I feel like I am being punished and if I promise to be a better person someone will show up with a milkshake and a handkerchief for my disgusting, sweaty hands and feet.”
Washing the mat supposedly helps. Maybe I’ll give that a shot and try again. I think what I’ll end up doing is concocting my own workout and then flailing in the basement where nobody can see me.