The Y-M-C-A

I will uncomfortably confess that we joined the YMCA and I went to my first aerobics class this morning. (I will not let myself go so far as to gain 20 pounds after Emma's birth, so I had to make my move when it hit the 19.66 pounds mark.) I'm only posting this because I want a reminder that laughing at yourself can be a good and healthy thing.

Monday was a Bad Day. It was the kind of day that God probably wanted to be a comedy, but I turned it into a Tragedy. Most of the trouble happened in Target (a really good public place, you know?). I tripped, I spilled, my hair was sticking up, Emma had no shoes and only one sock, I went through 4 carts before I gave up and stuck them in anyway, I talked too loudly, dropped a posterboard, stepped on a posterboard, shoved the posterboard, held the posterboard, almost tore the posterboard, cursed(!) the posterboard. You get the drift, I guess.

Well, it was probably hilarious. It reminds me of the french woman who couldn't help but snicker when Tami told her it was something like 45 o'clock. I should have laughed like Tami. I should have at least smiled like Tami. But I didn't. I took myself way too seriously and I fumed all day.

God gave me a second try today. And I'll tell you about it.

The class began at 6:00. I walk in, wearing my trendiest workout pants and a t-shirt. Turns out I'm the youngest one there by at least 10 years. And my shirt's on inside out. The teacher tells me I am at a step interval class (what is that?!), and that I should just get the lightest weights and lowest step. I followed the herd and did that.

You know, it really wasn't that bad. It's just that everyone in there had wrinkles and grey hair and whooped my 25-year-old booty. I had to take breaks and watch Grandma hoppin' to the beat on her 3 riser step. I got 2 pound weights and felt the burn. Mr. I-look-like-Obama Businessman had 15 pound weights and did extras. Oh, and I couldn't keep in sync with the others, who were all on a first name basis, and I fell off my 2 inch step one time. I think I did blush that time.

The kicker was when the teacher passed out resistance bands. She had us step on them, then raise them up and behind our heads to tone our triceps. I kept trying and trying but couldn't pull mine any higher than the waist. I kept wondering if she gave me the wrong one. Was it too short? Too taut? I mean, really, I pulled with all my might and it wouldn't budge. Obama's looked so much longer than mine.

So this was all very embarrassing. But it was so much fun! I smiled to myself many times and congratulated myself for the victory in that. I couldn't even keep up with Grandma in aerobics class. That is hilarious and I recognize it for what it is. I'm going back on Friday. I hope I'm still laughing then.