No class (Part 1)

I have no class.

No fitness class, that is.

I have them in that I belong to a gym. I just skip them.

Why? I think it started as a rebellion against the years – fourteen years – rigorous, time-consuming dance study I did.

ballet bun

By high school, I averaged six classes per week, spread over the course of three days. Mostly ballet including pointe but also jazz, tap and helping with younger kids’ classes. In the month leading up to a performance, the time commitment would typically double.

When I got to college, I tried to talk myself into signing up for a dance class on campus, if only to maintain my weight. But I just couldn’t. My bum ankles were giving me a lot of trouble and Cornell‘s hilly campus didn’t help. I gained the freshman fifteen and then some.

And now? So much time has passed. Do I regret not keeping some tie to dancing? Absolutely. But the knowledge that going back and even dabbling would be painful–definitely physically and possibly emotionally.


I frequently try to talk myself into any kind of class. Some days, I sit on my couch and browse fitness class schedules for more than an hour.

I start by checking the schedule of my grotty gym chain, considering yoga and pilates mat-style classes. I know I don’t have the stamina for anything called Boot Camp or Total Body Whatever. Why set myself up to fail?

Sidebar: I’m not a morning person and I do not shower at the gym. These two things mean I workout at night on weekdays.

While I don’t consider myself a germ phobe, the idea of showering at my gym makes me gag.

Also when I consider the amount of shower and hair and makeup products I’d have to cart there if I worked out before work and forced myself to shower at the gym, it makes no sense.

Also also, it takes me a good 45 minutes to an hour to get work-ready between blow drying my hair and the rest of it. Just, no.

Once in a while I’m tempted by the latest fitness trends. “Maybe I should take a SoulCycle class or bite the bullet and pay for a package of yoga classes at Greenhouse.” But then I remind myself: YOU HAVE ALL SORTS OF FREE CLASSES AT YOUR GYM AND YOU TAKE NONE OF THEM.

Right. Thanks Voice of Reason.

What finally made me get some class? You did, lovely readers, you did. But you’ll have to wait for Part 2 to get the details.

Any guesses how it went? Read Part 2 here.

10 thoughts on “No class (Part 1)

  1. Paul

    I find as i get older I work out more and more in my mind. I gotta have the fittest mind around by now. Ha! In my early 40’s I had been pushing a desk for some years and my employer offered a heavily subsidized membership at a high end athletic club for employees and spouses ($300 for a $1300 yearly membership). My wife an I were discussing it at the kitchen table one evening when our 14 year old daughter wandered in to inspect the contents of the fridge. She listened to the conversation for a minute and then asked if we were going to join. When we said we were, her response was (looking us up and down); “Bit late for that, don’t you think?”

  2. PinotNinja

    And that is how I rationalize paying $130 a month for my gym membership — it’s at such a fancy spa locale that the showers are nicer than the one I have at home and going there feels like a luxurious indulgence so I actually want to show up and be there. By the time I realize that I am actually about to be tortured by a sadistic fembot in a barre class, it’s too late and there’s no time left to escape before the EDM starts thumping.


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