And I mean that both literally and figuratively.
This weekend was amazing and awesome and I wouldn't have traded it for anything in the world. Still... I can't believe I broke down the way I did during my practical for Hip Hop Hustle.
Let's start from the top though. S and I had a little trouble getting on the go and were on schedule to make it there just on time but we got a little confused finding the place and got there a few minutes late. The lecture stuff was cool and I learned a lot and not just about Hustle but about fitness in general. The master class section of the day kicked total tail. I love HHH 17 and The Show segment just fricken rocks! The afternoon flew by and before I knew it... test time. I knew I had the written part down. They basically told us the answers. The practical? Let's just say I had a melt down of epic proportions.
As I said in my The Plus Size Stigma I fight with myself daily about being 330 pounds and a fitness instructor. People judge me. I feel judged. I do it because I love it though and that's really all that matters. If I get a good workout and everyone with me gets a good workout then everyone wins.
However... I really kind of needed my Xanax to survive Saturday. I got called in the first group for my practical and I was nervous and I was in a line with 4 beautiful women who were tiny, pretty, and one was quite possibly the best dancer I've ever been in the same room with. I did fine on the first few moves, rocked them out, smile on my face, having a good time. Then came a move I couldn't NOT jump/bounce on.
I've got an ovarian cyst that doesn't want to go away and it's putting pressure on my hip. The doctor cleared me for this weekend but said little to no jumping because, basically, if I do something wrong and it ruptures the cyst and I'm in the air things would end badly for everyone.
I went for it though. Pain. Every single move. The world started to eat me alive. I felt like crawling in to a hole and dying. I kept going. I faked a bigger smile and put more attitude in to it. When it was over I walked back to do my written test trying not to puke or cry or both. It was horrible. S tells me I kicked the practicals tail and I shouldn't worry about passing but I'm sure I'm "in training" the more I think about.
I survived though. Didn't take a Xanax even though I wanted to and probably should have. When I got home I showered and changed and then went to a wedding reception and danced the night away. I even pulled out some of the moves from HHH class on the dance floor. Success!
This morning S and I left even earlier for Zumba Toning. We were frightened. Basic 1 was a tough day. Very tough. Toning was hard but there was a lot more lecture to the class than I expected. She still kicked our tail with the master toning class and the drills in the afternoon got to be really hard focusing on the same muscle groups to learn different ways to incorporate moves into the choreography.
I don't know just how bad tomorrow morning is going to feel but I doubt I will be feeling all that wonderful. I'm already sore from head to toe!
This weekend was a good growth experience for me. I survived a pretty massive panic attack without Xanax. I held my own ground against dancers and fitness professionals who are more fit and more experienced than I am. I learned a lot about the human body, about how we work and about how to use the tools I have to sculpt my body into what I want it to be.
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