My friend Becky invited me to join her for Zumba class at the gym she goes to (Gold's - my membership is at the YMCA) and I decided to take her up on her invitation. I had never taken a Zumba class before. It's a high energy, intense latin dance style class. I had intended to go, a lot of times before.
Now, I had imagined getting winded into the first 20 minutes of the class. Since I'm so out of shape, my stamina is definitely not good. I tried to keep up - I really hated seeing myself look ridiculous in those mirrors ALL OVER THE ROOM! So I just tried really hard not to look in the mirrors and see how silly I looked. I am seriously THE most uncoordinated woman in the world. I'm sure of it. Despite how silly I must have looked (Remember, I decided I wasn't going to look in the mirror), I had a hard time keeping up with the actual dance moves. I learned quickly that I can't move my arms and legs rhythmically in different directions at the same time. It was crazy. You know, like rubbing your belly in one direction and rubbing the top of your head in the opposite direction... ? That was me, in this class. The thing I noticed was that I could still breath, wasn't out of breath yet (but close) that my ankles were absolutely killing me. Who would have thought?! So I took the moment to dodge out of class to the water cooler just outside of the classroom door. As I sucked down the water, I realized that I used that water cooler as an excuse to stop and take a break. Threw the cup away and joined back in. For 4 minutes. Yep. My ankles were killing me. So I dodged back out of there with the excuse that I had to go to the bathroom. On the long walk of shame to the bathroom (I really did have to go) I was mad at myself for not sticking it out. Um, I made it 10 minutes I think, definitely no longer than 15 minutes OF THE HOUR LONG CLASS! I was feeling bad about it. Discouraged. But then I realized something. We all have to start somewhere. You can expect to jump off a boat in the middle of the lake if you can't swim. So, you learn to swim and build yourself up, then you jump off of the boat and swim to shore. I realized that I was jumping in too soon, for me. So, instead of giving up, I headed over to the treadmill. I had 40 minutes left before the class was out. I haven't worked out in a while and I need to warm up. Strengthen myself, my lungs, MY ANKLES! Everyone has to start somewhere. So this is where I started. In that 40 minutes I did 2 miles. I'm kind of embarrassed to admit that it took me 40 minutes to do those two miles (I think their mile / timer counters weren't synced correctly (heeeheee) I admit I was only going 3.2.
While I was walking, I started thinking, all I have to do is one mile. I just need to get to one mile. One mile was my goal. When I got to one mile, I was feeling so good, I kept going. One more mile. Just one more. One Mile.
Getting to mile one was my goal. I got to mile two instead. One mile at a time. It's not a big accomplishment by all means, but it is for me. I didn't quit. Instead, i decided I would prepare myself for Zumba. I'm going to be ready for that class. And I will finish the whole thing.
One mile at a time.
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