The Grannies Handed Me My Ass
100 Day Experiment: Day Four
In case I was wondering exactly what level I was starting this crazy Iron Man thing at, now I know for sure.
It’s not the ground floor.
It’s even the basement.
I’m starting out in the bunker six stories underground.
I took (what I thought was) a thirty-minute ‘quick cardio’ class at the gym this morning.
There was middle-aged me and half a dozen men and women in their 70s.
Since I was new, the teacher told me to get one of those giant balls that people sometimes use as a chairs or to do sit-ups over and two sets of dumbbells. She also said I could go ahead and get a much smaller ball (like the size of a kids ball you’d buy at Wal-Mart), just in case the big ball got too heavy for me.
And I was like…I’ll be FINE. I don’t need a kids-size ball.
Right. Right.
I made it about fifteen minutes through before my arms and upper back were on fire. All the septuagenarians? They didn’t blink. They were just fine. Me? I had to go get one of those kiddie balls.
And then, when I realized I was wrong and the 30 minute cardio-with-a-giant-ball part of the class was followed with another 30 minutes of dumbbells, I bailed.
Yes, I did.
I put my weights away and (barely) made my way down the stairs on my squat-wobbly legs, put on my swimsuit, and got into the hot tub.
I had myself a good long think in there. Because in that moment, with my limbs all rubbery and weak and the old folks still on the third floor doing their strength training without me, Iron Man felt a million miles away.
It felt like it might as well be on the moon. Impossible. Ridiculous.
And then I remembered. I have 45 months left. And there’s no shame in figuring out where your starting place is.
Not even when your first cardio class turns out to be a ‘gentle’ class for senior citizens who are in better shape than you are. By a lot.
This is where I am at month 15 of a 60 month plan.
This is why I made this a 60 month plan and not a 6 month plan.
The thing is, it’s not a huge surprise that I’m not in great shape.
I’ve lost a third of my body weight, for one thing. It’s a sure thing that I’ve lost at least some muscle mass. And it’s for sure that I wasn’t a physically strong fat woman to start with.
I’m coming back from a place of being very sick, nearly immobilized by pain, and unable to sleep without a cross between Darth Vader’s mask and a vacuum cleaner attached to my face.
So, day four. I made it through 30 minutes of cardio, with the kiddie ball.
My friend Hartley tells me all the time, “Steady on.”
This is me, steadying on, accountability partner. This is where I start.
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Shaunta Grimes is a writer and teacher. She lives in Reno with her husband, three superstar kids, and a yellow rescue dog named Maybelline Scout. She’s on Twitter @shauntagrimes, is the author of Viral Nation and Rebel Nation, and is the original Ninja Writer.
