I hated P.E. in high school. I never went to the gym or even made it around my neighborhood for a run. But when I got to college, I decided to take advantage of the closeness of the student rec to try out some fitness classes. And even though I felt like throwing up after my first Zumba class, I kept going back, every week, until 2 years later I knew the choreography almost better than the instructor. My friend, the Southern Belle, and I took the front spots in front of the mirror and even downloaded the songs to listen to at home.
This year, after our beloved Zumba instructor graduated, the Southern Belle and I have decided to try going to yoga instead as a way to stay in shape and do something active.
Although we came up with this plan last semester when we heard our favorite instructor would be leaving, I didn’t feel a real urgency to start going to classes when this semester began. I wasn’t doing anything super active, despite my frequent dance parties to my Zumba playlist in my kitchen (thank goodness I live on the ground floor – there’s a lot of jumping around involved), but I didn’t feel out of shape or anything either. I still don’t think of myself as having a physical side, a result, I suppose, of all those years of despising P.E. and all it represented. My default setting is, “I hate moving.”
So imagine my surprise when, after making it to a demo week yoga class, I felt the difference. My muscles, sore from sudden use, nevertheless felt stronger already. The moodiness my boyfriend had so patiently endured for the past two weeks suddenly evaporated. I even walked a little taller as the Southern Belle and I made our way home.
They say college is a time for getting to know yourself; I guess I’m still finding out, however slowly, that I really do feel better when I’m active.
The Grammar Changeling 