Gemstone
Here for the Journey
On one of my previous attempts to lose weight I decided to join an aerobics class at the local leisure centre. Having been fairly inactive for a while and VERY overweight I thought a low impact class would suit me fine.
I should have read the signs.
First there was the interview - a radient woman of around 35 years old, stick thin and a vision of pink lycra greeted me. "Hello, my name is Jenny," she gushed. As she set up the audio equipment and pulled out the mats she asked searching questions about my errant lifestyle. Then, shock! Horror! she asked me to step on the scales! Oh-My-God!
As the scales slid through the numbers Jenny looked over the glasses she had perched on her nose. She didn't say a word - not a syllable - she didn't have to!
As the girls arrived in their leotards, tights and lycra, looking for all the world like a delegation from RADA. I could feel embarassment rise within me. Standing there in my old black leggins and baggy T shirt I felt like an elephant among flamingos.
Just when I felt I could bear it no more I felt what I thought was a reassuring hand on my shoulder. Jenny was smiling with the indulgent look usually reserved for small children and animals and said, "I should go to the back dear if I were you".
No sooner had I got to the back of the class than the "fun" bagan! Oh it started easily enough, slow easy little moves to the left and right, forward and back. The music was good and I was getting the hang of it.
Then it happened! The music moved on apace and I found myself going left as the person next to me went right. "Silly woman" I thought as I returned to the right, only to bump into the woman the other side who was going left.
Having got out of sync with my right and left I now found myself going forward when I should have gone back, tripped over the back stretched foot of the woman in front and ended up a crumpled heap on the floor.
To the dismay of the whole group, the music stopped and all eyes were fixed on ME! As I sat there a plan began to take form. "Oooh... my ankle hurts" I complained.
As I hobbled towards the door, making unintelligible excuses as I went, I felt a collective sigh of relief run through the group - but not as big a sigh as mine, as I legged it down the stairs and ran to the car
I should have read the signs.
First there was the interview - a radient woman of around 35 years old, stick thin and a vision of pink lycra greeted me. "Hello, my name is Jenny," she gushed. As she set up the audio equipment and pulled out the mats she asked searching questions about my errant lifestyle. Then, shock! Horror! she asked me to step on the scales! Oh-My-God!
As the scales slid through the numbers Jenny looked over the glasses she had perched on her nose. She didn't say a word - not a syllable - she didn't have to!
As the girls arrived in their leotards, tights and lycra, looking for all the world like a delegation from RADA. I could feel embarassment rise within me. Standing there in my old black leggins and baggy T shirt I felt like an elephant among flamingos.
Just when I felt I could bear it no more I felt what I thought was a reassuring hand on my shoulder. Jenny was smiling with the indulgent look usually reserved for small children and animals and said, "I should go to the back dear if I were you".
No sooner had I got to the back of the class than the "fun" bagan! Oh it started easily enough, slow easy little moves to the left and right, forward and back. The music was good and I was getting the hang of it.
Then it happened! The music moved on apace and I found myself going left as the person next to me went right. "Silly woman" I thought as I returned to the right, only to bump into the woman the other side who was going left.
Having got out of sync with my right and left I now found myself going forward when I should have gone back, tripped over the back stretched foot of the woman in front and ended up a crumpled heap on the floor.
To the dismay of the whole group, the music stopped and all eyes were fixed on ME! As I sat there a plan began to take form. "Oooh... my ankle hurts" I complained.
As I hobbled towards the door, making unintelligible excuses as I went, I felt a collective sigh of relief run through the group - but not as big a sigh as mine, as I legged it down the stairs and ran to the car
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