Friday night the hubs and I were watching one of my favorite movies Billy Elliot. This movie never fails to make me smile. English wit, violent riots and dancing wrapped into one! Billy inspired a genius plan. There's plenty of dancing videos circulating the universe and dance is a fun, musical form of exercise. Not to mention that I love to dance! I found two "Dance off the Inches" (awful names) on Netflix and decided to give them a shot. I had images of loving my new form of exercise racing in my mind as I fell asleep.
Saturday was the day. I was frustrated after learning I gained 0.4 for the week and had a morning of crying to my mother and Johnny. I cleared a space in the living room and made absolutely sure husband would not watch me at all. I fired up the t.v. and had my work out clothes on. (I use the term "work out clothes" very loosely.) The music was cheesy, elevator samba music and of course the leading woman was skinny as anything plus annoyingly chipper. However, I set my judgement aside. This was going to be the day of change. (Insert gleam of the eye.)
This was my expectation:
Aaaaaand this was the reality:
and this:
Oh it was brutal.
It was only my first time trying it but I felt so ridiculous. My feet would not move the way I wanted them to. I'm pretty sure I was just moving any random way I could. I was sweating (which is technically a good thing because it means I was actually doing something) and I kept pausing/rewinding. I managed to get through 30 minutes before I just had enough. John was really proud of me for trying something new but I did not feel proud at all. I felt...well, I'm not totally sure. Moody I suppose. I've known from birth that dance wasn't one of my strongest skills but I didn't really care. I love it even if it doesn't love me but my experiment didn't really end so well. Although I do have to admit that I felt a little energized that afternoon.
Now it's Sunday and I'm starting to understand that it's not about getting the steps right. It's about me getting out of my comfort zone and pushing myself when I normally wouldn't. If I stick with it, who knows where it will lead me? One day of light exercise and I feel Yoda-esque.
I just hope that after a week I will stop looking like this...
