The Fat Girl Running – Kristann Monaghan

This weekend I tried out something new to the experiment but not to me.  I went to Jazzercise class on Saturday morning.  Now I have been a Jazzercise student for many many years and really if you haven’t tried it out, I dare you to give it a try.  Go ahead.  Dig out your leg warmers and head band and try it.  It really is a complete workout.  Aerobics and dance moves, weights and stretch…you get it all.  Check it out if you don’t believe me.  http://www.jazzercise.com/   The best thing about a Jazzercise class? NO mirrors!  Yup.  You heard me.  No mirrors.  For us fat girls, this is the absolute best thing about it.  I don’t have to look at myself floundering around, fat jiggling and covered in my raccoon grease.  I can just enjoy myself and move it.  BFF and I sometimes call it Spazzercise.  Because you can feel like a spaz trying to get all the dance moves.  Or others can look like a spaz once you have been doing it for as many years as we have.  We promise not to laugh if you join us in class.  Maybe a snicker or two.   I love Jazzercise because I love to dance.  I am a fat girl who dances around her living room quite frequently when the mood strikes…and yes, sometimes I am naked.  So there.  I am even the girl in the front row of class….seriously.  Pretty sure in my head, I am Britney Spears dancing like this:

But in reality I think it is more like this:

In any case, I still worked up a good greasy raccoon sweat and felt pretty sore the next day.  Everything hurt but in a good way.  And the knee held up pretty well except for all the plies.  So I took that as another step toward starting to run again…hopefully.  Despite being aware of my fatness when we were doing crunches, I really enjoyed it.  Kinda hard not to be aware of the fat then as it is all rolled up coming at you like a big wave toward the pageant queen chin as you crunch.  I half expected to see a surfer on my fat waves catching a rip curl as I crunched up.  Pretty sure I might have heard island music playing and I know I shaved my girly parts so it wasn’t coming from the jungle down there.  And how are you supposed to leave a space between your chin and chest when doing crunches if your chin and chest are shaking hands and becoming fast friends as they grow into one?  It is a mystery to me.

Today BFF and I went back to Jazzercise and found out this am they were having yoga class.  Ok.  We are game.  I can become a human pretzel, right?  Wrong!  More like a human donut!  Yoga is seriously harder than it looks or sounds.  You want me to put my foot where while my hand is doing what?  And my hips have to be facing where? Sounds like a bad sex instruction manual but really I felt like the fat girl in me was laughing as I tried to get my body to comply to the gumbyness of yoga.  Sex isn’t even that bendy…at least for me it isn’t.  I mean sex can be bendy but for me its more of a try not to notice the sound of your fat slapping together kind of thing.  I might be traumatized to never having sex again until I lose some weight.  Well…let’s not go into that at this point.  At one point, I had to almost laugh out loud as the instructor said to rest your chest on your knee.  I tried but couldn’t because my fat belly was already resting there.  I mean really.  I can’t get any closer to my knee cuz my fat roll has now taken over the space.  Ugh.  I tried to move it but it wouldn’t budge.  It was like stuck there with duct tape or something.  Then the absurdity of me trying to move my fat roll over while I was trying to strtch grabbed me as funny and I had to stifle the giggles that felt like they would explode like diarrhea if I opened my mouth.  It really was pretty funny that I was actually trying to move it out of the way.  Oh brother.  So no pretzel for me….like I said.  Human Donut.

So I have hit my two-week mark on the steroid injection.  The point where I can try running again and see if it is gonna be possible.  Tomorrow I will give it a go trying the Couch to 5K program so I don’t strain it too hard and we shall see.  I have my chicken bone ready for Precious.  Fingers crossed on the knee.

Oh yeah.  I didn’t die today.  I tried to contort myself in ways that a human should not contort themselves, but I didn’t die.  I am fat girl spazzerciser and human donut!  The experiment continues….