dreading the tread

For the last four and a half weeks, I have been working my way through a Power Zone cycling program on the Peloton. It has been tough but persevering through it has given me some confidence about my post-Covid fitness level. Even though I am very aware that cycling doesn’t translate to other workouts, I thought I could and should use this new momentum to get back into a real gym with other live people. 

There was a time last summer and fall where I doubted whether I would get back into group exercise. Why get dressed, drive somewhere, fight for the “good treadmill” and use up almost two hours to get in a one hour workout? Why bother thinking about what to wear to workout outside the home? Why subject myself to the most germ-infested places if I can workout at home? I mean, my mom is certain that she knows someone who got MRSA from a group exercise class.

As it turns out, the answer to those “why” questions is that being around other people is inherently motivating and working out at home involves a certain amount of denial.  When the Covid shut-down started 15 months ago, one of my initial worries was about how I would continue to exercise (not to mention public health and safety). I figured that with a Peloton, treadmill and few sets of weights at home, I could make it work. It mostly did go just fine until inertia creeped in and I regularly settled for 30 minute classes instead of doing 50 minutes or an hour (like I would if I went to a live class).

Last week, I committed to going to a Wednesday morning Orange Theory class (committed = signed up online). When I am nervous about something, I talk about it a lot. So, I let my family know that there was a 72-hour countdown to this big event and gave them regular reminders via text every 8 to 12 hours. I was fearing embarrassing myself by failing in a 60 minute exercise class. I knew that this would be a day to face reality – much like the first day wearing “real” clothes after wearing shelter-in-place outfits for many weeks and months.  Luckily, my friend decided to join me in the rip-off-the-bandaid Wednesday workout (thank you SZ!). It felt good to know that I would have some moral support. 

The in-person boot camp workout was very much the wake-up call I expected. The rowing and weights went better than anticipated but the treadmill workout went far worse,  Part of the problem is that wearing a mask on a treadmill was very tough. I had hoped to stay out of public group exercise until mask wearing was over but I was mislead by the term “mask optional” on the sign up. That didn’t mean that wearing a mask was my option – it meant that some classes were were required to wear masks and some were not. Sadly, my class required a mask and that definitely made the treadmill unbearable.

I was completely relieved when the class was over and I knew what needed to happen next – a lot more exercise beyond 30 minute classes. So, I signed up for a running program on the Peloton app and made a 5-week commitment. 

Things were looking up until yesterday when I had to go to “real” gym to use the treadmill. I had 1.5 minutes left on my 30 minute treadmill workout when the young woman from the front desk tapped me on the arm. I was in the hardest part of the class – fighting both speed and incline for 3 minutes straight – and I let out an audible gasp when she touched me. She asked me if I minded moving to another treadmill since they would be doing a photo shoot where I was currently “running.” I wanted to say, “How could you be doing a photo shoot at 9 am on a Sunday morning?” but instead asked politely if they could wait a minute and twenty seconds for me to be done and she said yes. Then, I considered how bad this situation was for my second public workout in fifteen months: four models and a photographer waiting for me to move out of their way, the awkwardness of my gasp, my slow speed on the treadmill in relation to the amount I was sweating, the general indignity of being a an “older” woman in a gym with a ridiculous amount of stunning, younger people. 

Attempt #2 of exercising outside the home felt like a huge set-back. I started thinking that I may have to find a happy medium of working out harder at home without subjecting myself to the numerous opportunities for humiliation at the “real” gym. If only I didn’t have 12 classes at Barry’s and 18 classes at OrangeTheory waiting to be used, I could walk away right now. My daughter just alerted me that the mask requirement has been lifted at Barry’s so the pressure is mounting.