I renewed my gym membership, because I super love zumba. A workout where I get to dance like a weirdo and get in shape?! That is perfect. Granted, the intention of zumba, is not to intentionally dance like weirdo, I just have no rhythm and coordination–and love to dance anyway, so weirdo-dancing-ness is inevitable for me.
This week, I stepped out of my comfort zone by attending a spin class. It isn’t even that I haven’t done spin before. I have–but it was at a different gym. When I first went to spin, I attended the class with a friend who loved spin, she told me what to expect, and I had a buddy. I always feel safe doing something with someone who has done whatever we are doing before. I can learn how that new situation works from my cozy comfort zone nestled behind a knowledgable friend.
Anyway, I went to spin. I felt irrationally anxious. The class was sparse (summer makes people want to workout outside) so the instructor had all the students move up to the front row. The front row is not a place where I belong. I like to hide in the back, where people can’t see me be sweaty and gross. I want to stay in the corner where people won’t notice my general awkward ineptitude at fitness in general.
However, I went. I enjoyed it, and I plan to go back again.