Resolution Rush: Drop the excuses with the pounds, “feel free to pass”

It’s 8:30. I know this because I’m staring at the clock wondering how much longer I can endure this bootcamp class. Is it normal to sweat five minutes into the warm up? I’m asking for a friend, of course. I try to watch the people around me as I pick up barbells in my mismatched workout gear.  I’m not going to pretend my socks are the same color, at this point in my life; I was just proud I had the courage to show up before noon. Thirty minutes in, I’m trying to reason with myself… “Whitney, you’re halfway done”…breaking it down…“that’s just two 15 minute workouts”… I want to give up when I hear the grizzly voice of the instructor announcing it’s time to run. I drop my head wondering if that granola bar I scarfed down on the way to the gym was enough fuel for what feels like a marathon.  I take a gulp of my water as I read the motivational slogan on the bottle I got for Christmas. (It wasn’t doing its job.) The instructor gets us ready for cardio, yelling from a distance …“Feel free to pass” as we head for the halls. “Oh thank god! She must know I need a break,” before I realize the trainer was just giving us permission to PASS the people in front of us.  I smile, and prepare to get lapped.

Sometimes I feel like the Amelia Bedalia of the “gym-world.” Remember those children’s books? She was a clumsy maid who wasn’t necessarily wrong, just saw things another way. I remember one chapter where Amelia was told to draw the drapes and ended up literally drawing a picture of the drapes. Yep, that’s me. Only replace the broom with a free-weight.

The disconnect didn’t stop me, shortness of breath did. I started working out a few years ago, hanging in the back of Zumba class, pretending my dance moves matched that of a music video. Let’s be real, I probably looked more like I was floundering than Justin Timberlake’s back up dancer. Far from “bringing sexy back,” but  I didn’t care! I showed up, and that was half the battle. I started with half sessions before working up the endurance to complete the full hour and graduating to tougher training. As I struggled to find the beat of the music, I was finding myself.

We all see that girl up front, appearing to be sponsored by Nike or another athletic brand. She seems unphased by the same work-out that’s soaking our clothes as we gasp for air. The point is, that girl likely started in the back of class too.  We all have to begin somewhere.  We can’t compare our first day to gym-goers who have been doing this for years. Instead, let them be an example of why consistency will pay off. It doesn’t matter if we’re getting “passed” as long as we are at least moving forward.