It became official this morning: I once again OWN the Reebok step. I slay it. I crush it. It is mine.
Years ago, I went to Step class every day it was offered. In the morning, if I felt I didn’t get enough of a workout on the Step by an instructor who I didn’t particularly care for, then I went back to the 5:15 p.m. class the same day for a second go-round. Cardiovascularly, I was in damn good shape.
I haven’t been -- and I’m still not -- in the shape I was then. But once again, I feel confidant in saying, I am conditioned to a level where an hour in Step class doesn’t kill me. Still pushes me. Still tires me out. Still makes me sweat. But, folks, I got this.
Feels good! Feels really good to say that. I forgot how good it feels to be “conditioned.” There were two newbies in Step class this morning, both of whom were quite skinny, who were uncoordinated and tired out by break, and I could tell they sort of didn’t understand how hard it was to keep up. Here I am, a tush six sizes bigger than theirs, yet I was handling the class a lot better. Cardio stamina isn’t necessarily about size; it’s about “conditioning.”
But, anyway, as I was headed down the hallway to leave the Y, my pal Joe Tougas popped out of his office and said, “Hit the showers, Rocky. Hit the showers.” It’s funny because I kind of felt like Rocky after the stair-climbing scene. The only thing missing was the theme song.