At the gym with the word that starts with an S (as in the general term for physical activities) and the word that starts with an H (as is the term for one’s overall well being) … I just worry about copy right infringement laws and copy right rules and whatnot … for my next cross training class, I decided to do something moderately intense, so I chose a 30 minute class. The class is called the Metabolic Effect and is supposed to help you burn more calories focusing on interval training. Nice, I thought, something to help me focus on my muscles and get a nice quick workout in. So, of course, I did 40 minutes of moderate cardio beforehand.
*Note to the reader: Most gyms will provide members will details on what classes are either verbally or on a nice flyer. Do yourself a favor and do your homework.
One bonus of this class is it starts later–9:15–so I get to sleep in some. I got to the air conditioned room a bit early after my cardio time and noticed a mat up front with two free hand weights on it, so I went and got two for myself and stretched out a bit before we started. Other women started to entered. In fact, for most of the classes I’ve attended and will write about, almost all of them were taught by and attended completely by women. We may be able to thank social constructs and gender stereotypes for this not-so-much-anomaly. Then Willy entered.
Willy (or I have so named her as she has about a million different Shakespeare and Company t-shirts … or at least that’s all I’ve ever seen her in) is a retiree who comes to classes every day, is about the age of late 60s/ early 70s, and was probably a hippy at one point or another. She was also the only friendly soul in the group and the only one who gave me any idea of what the class had in store, along with lots of personal information about her strong dislike for air conditioning and getting up early for classes.
Sunshine (I’ll call her) our instructor from NJ, solid as a rock, stocky, blond, and not someone I would have sat next to in the lunch room, vaingloriously strutted in for the ready. 
I was terrifed. Even though she smiled, even though she was friendly and jocular, I still felt that at any moment she’d make me pee my spandex.
And so we began. The point of the class was, as Sunshine explained it, to rest as much as you worked out which made me wonder but I went with it. Only problem for me is that I’m not trained for rest, I’m trained to push through, keep going and finish. This class demands you stop and take a rest.
Scary as a drill sergeant, Sunshine barked commands for us to follow:
- Lunges with weights
- Star jacks
- U-jacks
- Jumping jacks (all types of jacks, really)
- Crunches with weights
- Planks with rows
- Planks with push-ups
- Push-ups
- Squats
- Squats with weights
It was really intense, but we did limited amounts of each, and after each set for each type of exercise, … things would get a bit awkward. “I just want you to rest … yes, that’s a great rest.” Imagine this coming from a winded voice that then sounds oddly, unfortunately, and I’m hoping, unintentionally seductive … it made me uncomfortable.
Breaking the discomfort was Dorothy– Gimping in and greeted loudly by the friendly/proclaimed partner-in-crime Willy, she’s bespeckled like a robin’s egg, except white, and held her own at her own pace.
“Rest, you have to rest, you must rest, we want you to rest, resting is important. Yes, rest. That’s a good rest.” … I just … it’s so … that’s a good rest? We are not in Kansas anymore.
Fifteen minutes into the class I looked at the clock wondering how many more minutes we had. It couldn’t be more than five I thought at the time. I was sweating like a champion, working really hard, moving from the floor to standing, standing to the floor, resting, and so on. When it was FINALLY over, I did end up resting about as much as I was working. The interval set up doesn’t really allow you to not take a break here or there. I found I was insanely hungry for the rest of the week but had more energy and stamina in my other workouts.
Overall, I’m adding it to the summer routine–hey, anything that teaches me how to rest is totally worth it, right?
ps-Willy and Dorothy are my new homegirls!
Fat Girl Running 
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