As the title implies, today I went to my first workout-class ever. And I’m proud of myself for doing it.
It was tough! The instructor was saying that we should keep moving unless we were about to die – and I did feel like that might be the case several times! But I worked through it. Of course I took some breaks and had sips of water between stuff, but I did it all! I kept moving even when I thought my body would kick me, and even though I was panting like never before and my face was red like a mix between a strawberry and a tomato.
I fought against all my instincts that told me to stop and calm, take a breath. I fought and I was victorious. Cause once the hour was up I still had a smile on my face and I was still alive. I could even walk – although the stairs were a real challenge.
I did fall down during the class. Literally. It was not pretty. It wasn’t even pretty when I had the moves under control – but who cares about that?
I wasn’t trying to impress anyone – except my dietrist who I’m gonna see next week and can tell that I had my first class! I’m also only trying to impress myself. And I’m not impressed by beautiful and flowing moves. No. I’m impressed by the fact that it’s getting done. I’m very much a ‘matter of fact’-person on this.
Get the stuff done! No matter how pretty or hard it might be.
So today I’m proud.
And, I can honestly say that it’s not the last time I’ve gone to a class like that. It was hard, it was brutal and it was fun. And it got me to pressure myself more than I would if I’d been doing a workout on my own.