I’M not sure exactly how it happened, but somewhere along the way I decided that running up 55 flights of stairs would be a fun way to spend a Saturday and a great way to bond with workmates.
I’M not sure exactly how it happened, but somewhere along the way I decided that running up 55 flights of stairs would be a fun way to spend a Saturday and a great way to bond with workmates.
I, like three other colleagues, will be taking part in the KPMG Consulting Central Park Stair Climb at the end of this month.
Until about a week ago I was thinking I would do okay, because I previously considered myself an active person, playing netball and going to the gym every now and then.
But I’ve had to reassess that idea and now will be just aiming to finish.
I would like to start by saying that I may have been grossly misinformed.
Prior to last Tuesday night I was under the impression that being fit meant you could get through a step aerobics class or a 30-minute jog, and be able to walk the next day.
Apparently all that means is you are not unfit. Fit is another story.
Last Tuesday night I found that out in the most embarrassing way possible when I decided to give a new aerobics class a go.
“This is a high cardio-vascular workout, so those of you who haven’t done it before may find it a little hard.,” said the perky, pony-tailed instructor.
No problem, I thought, I’m fit.
The instructor explained the class was divided up into three 20-minute sessions each with a “recovery” period in them.
Recovery, I thought, who needs a recovery? I’m fit.
I soon found that I needed that recovery after the first track, and that when it finally did come around two tracks later, it was not the ‘lie-on-the-floor-gasp-and-whimper’ kind of recovery track that I was hoping for. Then we were off again, with the instructor bouncing away up the front, giving out encourage-ment and smiles and just barely working up a sweat.
Worse still, she could speak and even joke around without a hint of exhaustion in her voice.
Halfway through the second session I found myself just trying to keep my feet moving. I came to the realisation that I was not going to make it through the class, however fit I was, and began to sneak toward the door.
I thought I was making a clean getaway, when I heard it.
“Ooohhhh, the class is too much for you? That’s okay, maybe we’ll see you next time then. Bye…..And now everybody one and two and three….”
If my face wasn’t already blood red, it would have been with the embarrassment I felt.
And if I wasn’t already gasping for air, I would have been speechless.
And if I could have run away, I would have. Instead, I just smiled at the instructor and the rest of the class and decided that, from then on, I would only be going to step class or yoga class, where I feel fit.
p See entry form, page 15.
I, like three other colleagues, will be taking part in the KPMG Consulting Central Park Stair Climb at the end of this month.
Until about a week ago I was thinking I would do okay, because I previously considered myself an active person, playing netball and going to the gym every now and then.
But I’ve had to reassess that idea and now will be just aiming to finish.
I would like to start by saying that I may have been grossly misinformed.
Prior to last Tuesday night I was under the impression that being fit meant you could get through a step aerobics class or a 30-minute jog, and be able to walk the next day.
Apparently all that means is you are not unfit. Fit is another story.
Last Tuesday night I found that out in the most embarrassing way possible when I decided to give a new aerobics class a go.
“This is a high cardio-vascular workout, so those of you who haven’t done it before may find it a little hard.,” said the perky, pony-tailed instructor.
No problem, I thought, I’m fit.
The instructor explained the class was divided up into three 20-minute sessions each with a “recovery” period in them.
Recovery, I thought, who needs a recovery? I’m fit.
I soon found that I needed that recovery after the first track, and that when it finally did come around two tracks later, it was not the ‘lie-on-the-floor-gasp-and-whimper’ kind of recovery track that I was hoping for. Then we were off again, with the instructor bouncing away up the front, giving out encourage-ment and smiles and just barely working up a sweat.
Worse still, she could speak and even joke around without a hint of exhaustion in her voice.
Halfway through the second session I found myself just trying to keep my feet moving. I came to the realisation that I was not going to make it through the class, however fit I was, and began to sneak toward the door.
I thought I was making a clean getaway, when I heard it.
“Ooohhhh, the class is too much for you? That’s okay, maybe we’ll see you next time then. Bye…..And now everybody one and two and three….”
If my face wasn’t already blood red, it would have been with the embarrassment I felt.
And if I wasn’t already gasping for air, I would have been speechless.
And if I could have run away, I would have. Instead, I just smiled at the instructor and the rest of the class and decided that, from then on, I would only be going to step class or yoga class, where I feel fit.
p See entry form, page 15.
