You'll probably make certain judgments about me when I tell you that I'm not a fan of exercise. Yes, I know, it's good for me; it'll keep my heart strong; I'll look better in my clothes, yadda yadda yadda. When it comes to exercise, though, I'm still that awkward fourth grader who couldn't make it up the rope climb in gym class.
As if it wasn’t humiliating enough to flunk Rope Climbing 101, I remember the gym teacher making the whole class stay until I reached the top. Everyone missed their bus and yet I still couldn't reach the top. Eventually, I was able to persuade the gym nazi, I mean teacher, to let me down from the rope. I learned that when the situation looks hopeless, threatening to throw up always brings the desired results.
It’s these and more not-so-fond memories about gym class which color my ability to enjoy exercise now. Maybe after some heavy-duty therapy I'll get over it, but then I think, why bother when I can just sit here and read a book instead? Surely all of that page-turning must burn some calories.
About two years ago, I purchased the Turbo Jam exercise DVDs. You've no doubt seen them advertised on late night infomercials. They promise Pound and Inch Loss! Workout Fun! and Slammin’ Good Music!
It was no doubt in a moment of fatness and desperation that I actually believed this was a good idea. Probably it was after one of my chocolate benders where I find myself promising God I'll never eat chocolate again if He'll just-this-once keep my thighs from rubbing together when I walk.
I had not opened the Turbo Jam DVD before today. In spite of my delusional belief that I, too, could look just like the perky nymphs on the infomercial, the DVD remained unopened and unused.
This morning, after feeling particularly guilty about a diet-blowing lunch yesterday, I decided to give Turbo Jam a try. I woke up early and dressed in my work out clothes so there would be no excuses (yeah, like I'm the sort of person who'd make excuses.)
The Turbo Jam DVD includes three workouts: "Learn & Burn," "20-minute Workout," and "Turbo Sculpt." Simple enough. I pop the DVD into the player. I'm greeted by the tiny, perky, and energetic Turbo Jam leader, Chalene Johnson, who's going to help me shed pounds and inches. Yeah, she looks like she's always had a weight problem. I try to not roll my eyes disrespectfully but I can't help it.
"Learn & Burn" is supposed to be a Turbo Jam introduction and sounds like my speed. Chalene promises to teach me each move. The first is called "Turbo Tuck." Of course it is, Chalene. Although back in the unhip dark ages, we used to call it a pelvic-tilt. So far so good. I can pelvic-tilt, I mean "Turbo Tuck," with the best of them.
Next is the "Pump" and it's not nearly as sexy as it sounds. When I attempt to do this move, I'm quite certain that I look like exactly like an epileptic flamingo.
Before I can even perfect my epileptic fit, Chalene moves on to the next move. She’s evil like that. This one is called the "Twist," but it’s not simply turning at the waist. Oh no no no. That would be too easy. Chalene wants me to Turbo Tuck, throw a right cross, throw a left jab, pull back to my body, draw up my left knee and step out on my left foot. All at the same time. Excuse me, Chalene, but is that even possible?
Now she wants me to twist my shoulders and hips but avoid twisting my right knee while keeping my right heel up. HUH?! Do you even HEAR what you're asking me to do, Chalene? At one point, she says, "I know that you've already got this move down." That's when I know that I can no longer trust her.
I shrug off the "Twist" as impossible while Chalene launches into the next move called the "W." Sorry Chalene; reminds me too much of whatshisname. I fast forward through this intending to invent my own move called the “Hyphen on the Couch” when the time comes.
Now we move onto something interesting called the "Capoeira Step." Evidently the word “Capoeira” is Brazilian for “you do not have a prayer in hell of mastering this move, fat girl.”
Chalene says we can pretend to throw down an imaginary opponent. Even though right about now I'm thinking that I'd like to throw her, I try to play along.
I'm up for releasing some early morning aggression as much as the next girl, but she quickly loses me when the move evolves into a multi-step, majorly choreographed maneuver. I'm trying to follow her, really I am, but it feels as if my arms and legs have different plans. She tells me to not put too much thought into it but I don't believe her.
Now that she's spent a whopping 5 minutes teaching those dance moves, she announces that it's time to put it all together and SWEAT. I can hardly wait.
It starts out easy enough. Just a simple "Bob and Weave" which is really stepping to each side and then back again, but of course that doesn’t sound nearly as much fun as “Bob and Weave.”
It's now that I’m forced to confront my limitations: I'm unable to move more than one body part at a time without hurting someone, usually myself.
In the middle of an especially uncoordinated effort, my dog Shelby jumps up on me to see what all of the excitement is about. I have my legs going and my arms going and now there's a dog on me, jumping and barking wildly. In an attempt to shoo the dog while still keeping up with Chalene, I somehow manage to punch myself squarely in the jaw. Yes, I really am that clumsy.
After this experience, I know that this exercise program is called “Learn & Burn” for a reason, because when you fail to Learn it, you will most definitely want to Burn it.
You have no idea how satisfying it was to stuff Chalene and her maniacal workout back in the box.
No comments:
Post a Comment