My ego or my thighs, I don't know which hurt worse at last night's fitness assessment. There's nothing more sobering for a 30- something woman than having a more than ample 'pinch' of stomach fat calibrated in front of a couple of 20 year old girls. Actually one was 19 but made sure we all knew that she was almost 20! Nope, nothing worse than that, unless you consider being surrounded by wall-to-wall mirrors while you workout, watching in horror every jiggle and flop (my bounce has long since left). Yeah, that might be more sobering.
I walked the padded track mainly to stretch my tight calves after the torture session, I mean fitness assessment. The attendant recorded all our measurements but never commented on them. I wonder what her assessment was of my current fitness level. On second thought, I don't want to know. Trying to regain a little of my dignity I forced myself to walk a mile, followed by 7 minutes on the elliptical-an evil machine, but that's another matter-then another 1/4 mile on the treadmill and stretching on the mat. I couldn't just leave. To do that would be to admint defeat. And I wasn't about to let that attendant or especially those 20 year girls think I was just a fat old woman. And I thought men's egos were fragile.
I've got to workout 25 hours (!) for this 8-week course at the local community college. Well, one down, 24 more to go. Ugh!
Side note: The attendant, who was very pregnant, smugly told us before we did the step exercise that these would be the longest three minutes of our lives. Inside I was shooting that smug smile right back at her. Maybe in a few months I'll ask her about the longest three minutes of her life. ;)
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