Group fitness classes…a reality check.

This is an exaggerated story based on real life events.


 You’ve decided that this year, will be YOUR year. You plan on getting in the best shape of your life and adopting that healthy lifestyle you’ve conveniently been putting off for so long. For far too long you’ve been procrastinating. It’s time to DO this.

It’s February. All throughout January you’ve been sticking with the plan. You’ve been eating lots of kale, spinach, and things you’ve previously never eaten (or been able to pronounce) before, like quinoa. You ignored those late night nacho cravings, and instead opted for celery sticks. You have lost a few pounds already and decide to join a gym to finally get that bikini body you deserve!

After a lengthy pep talk from one of the personal trainers, and after signing your life away to your new gym,  you pick up a flyer listing all of the different group fitness classes. You weren’t sure which class you wanted to start with (since there were so many), so you decide you will just take a chance and do whatever class is about to begin when you arrive at the gym the next day.

It’s your first day at the gym. You have on your new neon workout clothes complete with shirt which states “I don’t sweat, I sparkle” and are feeling pumped up. Your fitbit is on your arm (it’s the first day you’ve used it), and you have an awesome new water bottle that you can’t wait to finally use. When you walk in, you see a crowd of women walking into one of the rooms in the gym that looks like a basketball court. “This must be where the class is going to be,” you think to yourself. “I’m going to rock this-whatever this is.”

The class is filling up fast. This must be a good one, you think to yourself. “I’m going to be bikini ready in no time!” You look around and see that the women are picking up weights, mats, some type of rope things, and something that looks like a ball cut in half. You follow an older lady, thinking since she’s elderly and it’s your first class, you’ll pick up the same size weights she picks. “As soon as I do this class a few times, I won’t need these tiny weights,” you silently snicker to yourself. “Good for her, though! I hope when I’m old like her, that I try to keep up with the younger women, ” you think to yourself, but have no clue you’re about to be put in your place…

Dance music starts to play, and some bubbly muscular petite woman starts bouncing around. Everyone copies her, so you follow suit. “This is easy,” you think to yourself, after about 10 seconds of doing this move. “Ok guys! 50 seconds! Let’s go!” The instructor smiles and adds a jump to her step. You try to do the same, but after 5 seconds you start to feel increasingly fatigued. “30 seconds ladies! Doing great!” Sweat (aka sparkles according to your stupid shirt that you now regret wearing) starts to pour down your face. You look around. No one else is sweating. It starts to hit you. You aren’t prepared for this. Reality smacks you in the face. 

The longest 60 seconds of your life is finally over, thank God! Overly energetic fitness instructor shrieks, “great job, ladies! Let’s continue with our warm up!” She smiles, and you want to hit her. “How the hell is this the warm up??” You are majorly regretting this class.

You barely make it through the warm up. Two minutes of pure cardio hell. “Let’s start sweating, ladies!” Bubbles (who was previously referred to as instructor) exclaims. Everyone around is jumping again. “Again?!!!! Why?!” You silently scream. You look over at elderly lady. She is not only doing these jumps, but she has added weights. You hate yourself right now. Obviously you love yourself, but hate the fact that she’s is in far better shape than you. She was the one person in this class that you naively thought for sure, you could out perform. 

After 5 minutes, you are done. Sweat is streaming down your face. Your hair is soaked.  Despite the fact that you’re wearing deodorant, you’re increasingly aware of an unpleasant odor in your vicinity that possibly might be caused by you. It’s time to figure out an exit plan. You scan the room for options while your legs scream at you to stop doing jump squats. To the right of you is a thin woman, who is also struggling. For a moment you feel relieved. “I’m not the only one!” You suddenly don’t feel so bad. You see her stop what she’s doing and grab her things. “She’s leaving!! Yes! Now it won’t look so bad if I leave too. I’ll just wait a minute until after she’s goes.” You think to yourself. She walks over to the instructor and you can make out a few words of their conversation. “Oh congratulations, Julie! How far along are you??” You pause to absorb these words. “She’s pregnant?? With what? ?” Once again you’re back to square one. “She had an excuse. Damn.” Your mind is now grasping at straws for a way out. 

You’ve spent so much time worrying about how to get out of class that you haven’t realized you’re halfway through the class. “Hey! It’s all down hill from here! Maybe I’ll try to stick it out.” Relief starts to flood through your shaking and sweaty body. “Grab a partner!” Bubbles shrieks. Crap. Elderly lady looks at you and smiles. “Partners?” She asks. “Sure.” You reply behind your fake fatigued smile. Bubbles has you sit across-legs apart from each other and feet touching, while passing a weighted ball to each other. You begin. It’s not quite as difficult as you thought. Elderly lady starts to smile and then look away. “Darling, you have a small hole in your pants. Don’t worry, it happens to the best of us” she reassures. Oh. My. God. You look down. She is right. At this point, you are mortified. “Times up!” Bubbles screeches. Partner time is over and thankfully the next few exercises require legs together keeping your hole in your pants a secret between you and Elderly lady. 

“Ok ladies you did it! Great job!” Bubbles announces. After all of this drama, you realize some how you have made it through the entire class. “Let’s stret-” before she can finish her sentence, you collect your things and bolt for the door. Forget stretching. You’re done. 

You aren’t sure what to think. Obviously you aren’t nearly as in shape as you thought you were. Your ego is a little bruised, but you needed the reality check.  Everyone has to start some where. You tried your hardest, and that’s what matters. 






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