Step It Up

Coming off a week of vacation which consisted of lounging around on a boat all day and eating desserts every night, I decided I needed to jumpstart my gun hoe workout routine. I did not feel like going to a serious weight lifting class quite yet so I made my mind up to go to a step aerobic class that started at 5:15am. Now I would like to note that I have never voluntarily gotten up at 4:45am in my life. I didn’t even know things lived at that time in the morning let alone get up to start your day. But low and behold as I was rolling out of the driveway at 4:55am I see Old Man River’s kitchen light on and him inside milling around. I should have known.
I arrive at the class about 5 minutes early and take my position in the second to last row near the back. I was pretty confused when I looked up at the instructor’s stepper and noticed she only had one tier or blocks while everyone else had two or three. I decided to go with the masses and selected two. Before the class began I turned to the girl next to me and apologized in advance since I had never taken the class and I would no doubt be going right when everyone else was bouncing left. She assured me it was no big deal and she hadn’t been to the class herself in a couple weeks but also cautioned that this instructor did have a reputation of moving through the motions pretty quick.

This was not a joke. Within seconds the class had started and the 30 ladies around me were moving in one fluid motion like they were trying out to be synchronized swimmers while I just bobbed up and down doing the ‘basic step’ up and down off my stepper. Their heads would pop up and I would be stepping down. I felt like I was taking two steps to their one in an effort to try to appear like I knew what I was doing. After a few minutes I finally started to feel like I was getting the hang of things when the instructor, who was doing some sort of jumping cheerleader move after every step, yelled that we were going to do the ‘L’. I am not sure how the letter L has anything to do with this step combination but everyone else in the class knew exactly what to do. I bobbled up and down on my stepper in very uncoordinated movements as the ladies around me glided gracefully up, down, over, knee lift, over, across, up, knee lift… you get the deal. It was like trying to fit into the damn New York Ballet. Luckily she only did eight sets of those until we went back into the basic wide step. The wide step only lasted three counts much to my chagrin and before I knew what was happening the cheerleader up front whose butt looked like she had never eaten a Dorito was screaming ‘Let’s go into the Charleston!’… this exclamation was followed by a few screams and whoops of enthusiasm by class members as they transitioned into the Charleston. This consisted of a step up, kick, lunge back and simultaneous touch on the stepper, repeat with a little hop up to make it look more ‘dancy.’ This move however was not covered in my hip hop dance class and I looked like I was more doing a jig as I was constantly trying to keep up and on the right foot. Next thing I know the teacher was yelling for us to go up and over our stepper and repeat the ‘L’, taps, sidekicks, knees, and Charleston on the other side. I noticed that I was getting kind of tired and wasn’t quite stepping all the way on the stepper which as a result would cause my other foot to basically step on the inside of my leg in an attempt to get itself on the stepper as well. Over time I noticed that the inside of my legs had about a six inch welt mark from the bottom of my sock extending up my leg. Not only that but a few times I felt myself get caught on my stepper but managed to catch myself before I went down. I thought to myself how embarrassing that would be if I actually laid myself out in this class. I mean half the girls around me where doing some sort of war call of enthusiasm on their three step high steppers… they were professionals. And that is when it happened. I heard a shriek and a thud. I quickly realized that I was still standing and whirled around to see the lady who I had originally warned about my inexperience sprawled out on the ground. She was laying flat on her back with her arms and legs spread out like she was starting a snow angel. I got off my stepper and asked her if she was alright. Obviously embarrassed she said that her legs must have been getting tired because she tripped on her stepper and went down. I helped her up and she quickly resumed the class. The kicker that I only realize now in retrospect was that nobody else even stopped! I mean MAN DOWN PEOPLE! Even her friend who she was talking with before class didn’t even bat an eye when she casually looked over her shoulder to see what happened. No one missed a step and the group of synchronized swimmers went on as if nothing even happened. I mean did they think they were trying out for some award like who can have the most steps without ever missing a beat of the class? I was flabbergasted and I obviously still am flabbergasted.

I fell back into the class movements and before I knew it the class was over and I was dripping with sweat. I looked over to my left and the step crasher had vanished. I didn’t even know when she left but I did notice a few other times where she almost biffed it again so maybe she decided to cut her losses and avoid another face plant situation. As I was putting my stepper back her supposed ‘friend’ approached me and asked me if the crasher was alright. I mean shit lady you waited 20 minutes to ask a stranger if your friend was alright? Obviously she wasn’t too damaged since she continued on after she fell and walked out on her own accord. I don’t think she even knew what she did though after she went down like a ton of bricks because like I said she only took the time to briefly look back after the original shriek and thud.

I am not sure if I’ll go back to that step class. I mean what if something really happened to me and I did in fact take a major fall and hurt myself? Who would help me? I did feel more than once like I caught myself from taking a digger and I very easily could have been the man down. It was a good workout but I didn’t love the class’ vibe. It felt a little cultish and quite competitive to really nail all the steps. I can only imagine what they thought of the new girl who couldn’t figure out how to do the ‘L’ step and seemed to bob when they weaved. My other alternative class on Tuesday mornings is a barbell class which the inevitable outcome is serious pain and the inability to walk without looking like I have a corn cob stuck up my ass. I guess no one said this workout thing would be easy.