There are many ways to feel uncomfortable, and on Tuesday night, I felt them all. Being uncomfortable can be scary, exciting, and even liberating. And it can really make your butt hurt! But where do we get in life if we don’t step outside our comfort zones and challenge ourselves every now and then? Here’s a little story about my discomfort.
Just walking into spin class was uncomfortable. I had never felt more like the fat girl in gym class. I sat down on the bike and thought, What am I doing? I hate riding a bike, and now I’m going to do it in a room full of people who love it and choose to do it all the time. For an entire hour! And it’s gonna be hard, and it’s gonna hurt. Maybe there’s still time to walk out.
Nothing like spin class.
But then Kathy helped me adjust my bike, and Marti gave me a rundown of what I could expect in class. The other spinners arrived, Marti cranked the music, and we were off.
There were three levels of discomfort for me in class that day. The first was physical. Those seats are really uncomfortable! As some of my classmates pointed out, I have yet to develop a butt callus. I was also very bad at the standing up and pedaling part. It made me nervous because of my ankle injury, and because I felt like I was going to pitch right over the handle bars and land in the middle of the room. And it was just plain physically hard to stand up and pedal.
I love stock photos of spin class. Everyone is so sweat-free and happy!
The second level of discomfort was mental. I couldn’t stop wondering what the other people in class were thinking about me, especially when I had to sit when the rest of them were standing. Did they feel sorry for me? Did they think I was weak? Did they expect exactly that: That the fat girl wouldn’t be able to keep up? Chances are, they were too focused on their own workouts to think about me at all, but isn’t that just the way we operate, always sure we are being judged?
The third level of discomfort was emotional. I wanted to succeed, I wanted to be the good fatty who could tackle any physical challenge thrown my way, despite my size. But as I sat there and pedaled as hard and as fast as I could, I felt like a failure. If I couldn’t stand up, what was the point of even being there? I felt weak and embarrassed.
Now this is the kind of bike riding I could get behind.
I finished the class. And afterword, several people congratulated me for sticking with it. But here’s how my fat girl brain works: When someone said, “Great job!” I heard, “Great job, for a fatty!” When someone said, “You stuck with it and did the whole thing!” I heard, “Too bad you didn’t actually do the whole workout.” When Marti said she was proud of me? Well, that one I believed, because Marti knows my physical abilities and limitations, and she knows my fears.
The point is, it can be so hard to get out of your own head. Why couldn’t I just be happy that I pedaled that bike for sixty minutes, that I did all the resistance and speed changes, and stood up when I felt I could? Why couldn’t I just be proud of myself? I can write here every week about how I’m learning to accept my body more and more every day, and we can talk about all the ways we can embrace our strength and power (physically, emotionally, and mentally). But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to have those days of doubt and fear and embarrassment. I guess that’s part of living life as a fat athlete. Or any athlete, really. We all have our fears, and we all have our moments of bravery.
Marti (who is amazing and encouraging and a great coach!) plays a great selection of music during class, but my favorite song that night was “Fat Bottomed Girls.” I think girls with all types of bottoms make the rockin’ world go ’round, but it did make me smile to hear Freddie Mercury tell me to get on my bike and ride.
This is pretty much how sweaty I was at the end of class.
One housekeeping note before we wrap things up: I’m going on vacation! I’m heading to Florida to spend a week at the beach with three of my favorite women. I may post something when I’m down there, and I may not. Is the suspense killing you?!
