Category: Operation Suck Less™

A Minor (Hopefully) Setback

My best efforts to be careful have failed (booooo) and I have strained a muscle. Not in my knee or back as I had anticipated but in my *&^%$# neck; I feel like I have whiplash all over again and I am not loving the feeling.

I am unsure the exact cause but I assume it can be traced to some bad form on my part (boooo). It started as a minor stiff neck on Saturday and by the evening I was having issues turning my head all the way. So of course I ignored it. Sunday morning I had the same stiffness but as the day progressed it became apparent my poor neck muscles were finding my giant head a bit too much to handle. But I still worked out.

Finally, when I could not fall asleep I pulled out the huge ice pack and wedged it around my neck and skull. Ahhhh it felt so amazingly good. If I could, I would sleep on an ice pillow but there are all these warnings about frost bite that seem rather serious.

Today is now going to be full of failed efforts at getting comfortable and conflicting thoughts. I should workout, I should rest, I should go to a doctor, I should wait, I should eat a carrot, I should enjoy the healing powers of chocolate cake. One decision was made for me with a call from the pool manager informing me the heater broke and that I could swim if I wanted to freeze. Pass. An ice pillow is fab, an ice bath is torture and just makes me have to go to the bathroom immediately.

So it is here, my first setback of Operation Suck Less 2014™ and I am anxious to see how I handle it. Will I say, “screw it” and prop my head up enough to watch mindless TV and pound chips or will I ice at regular intervals and find inspiration from thousands of quotes and motivational posters about what winners do and all that blah? Only time will tell.

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A Good Sunday Habit Renewed

Part of Operation Suck Less 2014™ includes eating healthier, mostly at least, and to make this easier I have returned to my habit of a Sunday cooking extravaganza. It helps having plenty of food prepped and ready so I do not have any excuse to grab some junk.

I turn on peppy music, make sure I have bandages at the ready, and start cutting veggies. I always caramelize onions or shallots and sauté mushrooms. I blanch a few others like green beans or broccoli and then chop and peel a variety of raw options like carrots and celery. If I am really in a cooking mood, I will take the peels, tops etc and make a stock.

In addition to the veggies, I make some meat item, usually Chicken, and boil some eggs. Finally, I make some hummus or a batch of lentils. I am exploring new recipes to add a little variety to the mix and help prevent the dreaded taste bud boredom that can only be broken with chips or cake.

My prepped food can be eaten as is, in an omelet, non-fried-stir-fry or even a soup depending on my mood. Having the hard part out of the way makes the rest of the week easier.

When all is done, I look at how pretty my refrigerator looks with all the healthy food lined up nicely in my glass containers and then convince myself I should eat some of that and not go out for Chinese. It usually works.

In Praise of My Fitbit

When I began Operation Suck Less 2014™ I knew walking would be a key component for both exercise and reflection so I decided a pedometer would be useful to provide accurate progress updates.

Doing absolutely no research other than seeing it mentioned by Wil Wheaton and others on my social streams, and it for sale on Amazon.com, I decided to get a Fitbit One; Wil Wheaton walked along a rail road track looking for a dead body in a movie ages ago, I figured he must know something about walking.

Once it arrived, I clipped it on immediately and completely ignored the instructions until I realized it needed to be charged and I had to do all that initial set up business which luckily was quite easy.

My first few days were about getting an understanding of just how little I was walking; I knew the golden triangle of bed, couch, kitchen, was not packing on the miles but seeing the actual numbers on that tiny digital screen reinforced that doing just about anything was going to make me Suck Less in 2014™ but that I had a long way to go to get back to my 3 to 5 miles of walking a day.

I have a tendency to overdo, skipping that whole enjoying the journey business and wanting the immediate results; this usually leads to big setbacks and cranky moods. So while I had a long way to go to hit my goals, I also needed to take care of my injuries and make progress gradually. The Fitbit provided the means to do this by allowing me to add a number of steps each week and telling me when it was time to stop and to ignore that other voice in my head telling me I was being a wimp and should keep going until I crumpled in pain.

Slowly, I was able to build my daily steps from nearly nonexistent to 8,000 – 10,000 depending on the days other activity and I am confident I will continue to increase until I am back to 10,000 a day minimum.

My walks vary each day from pacing the hallway to wandering around the neighborhood in random directions and I use the gym track and the treadmill when I am focusing on intervals or trying to be less pokey. No matter which approach I take, I can always tell how far I have gone in a day and how many more steps I need to reach my goal.

When I remember to clip it on, the Fitbit is so easy and it automatically syncs with my phone app and the website, tracking steps, miles, stairs and more. It can go quite a long time without needing a quick charge, which is a huge plus. The product has several features I have not bothered to use such as a vibrating alarm and sleep monitoring but just knowing I have that option works for me.

Fitbit has a social component as well and although I was hesitant to add my first friend, I like having the playful competition as well as sending cheers, or taunts, to others. I was concerned about privacy but it is easy to keep hidden what I do not feel like sharing with the masses. I was also concerned about feeling like a lazy slacker compared to others, but decided I am just doing my own thing and I am only competing with what I accomplished yesterday, not my friends; I tell myself this, yet I am totally annoyed when others walk more than me. Grrr.

A favorite, and silly, feature is the messages the product will randomly send like “hold me” and “walk me”; they always make me smile. The badges are nice as well as they are not over done but only for meaningful milestones. When I received a badge for walking my first 50 miles, it made me feel good knowing that all my little, slow steps could add up to a trip to the burbs and back.

I have mixed feelings about the notifications telling me how many steps I need to make my goal. When I am feeling motivated, they make me get out there and walk. However, when I am feeling tired or my knee achy, it makes me what to tell the little bit to piss off and mind its own business. Either way, so far I have reached my goal each day. Go me!

Right now my Fitbit feels like an obsessed friend encouraging me in my quest to Suck Less in 2014™ but I can see a time where it might feel like a nagging pain in the butt, judging and stalking me as a sit on the couch being a slug. It will happen but I hope that day is a long way off and, more so, that it only lasts a single day.

I think it is cool that I know 4 people so far that have purchased one of these handy gizmos based on my usage of it, but it would be way cooler if I got some kind of a commission or maybe a personalized one in a sweet color as a thank you. For the time being, I will have to be satisfied sending them cheers now and again until they go ahead of me on the friend leader board and I will have to decide to walk more or just unfriend them.

So thumbs up for my Fitbit. It is doing exactly what I needed by helping me reach my goals without going overboard and is adding a bit of fun to the process. And now it is time to stop typing and go walking.

Exercise Pet Peeves

Working out would be so much more enjoyable with out the sweat and other people around. My current exercise pet peeves in no particular order:

The people that show up to water aerobics class and huddle in small groups talking the entire time and never move as if the few of us actually exercising are in their way.

People that clip their locker keys so they jingle with every step, even more annoying when they have headphones and remain oblivious to the clinking.

People that talk to me while I am working out and doing my best to convey my disinterest in their existence.

My shoelaces that always come undone after a mile.

People that drip sweat on equipment and do not clean it after they are done.

Old lady at the pool that puts a towel on the tile when showering but never picks it up when she leaves.

People that toss banana peels on the ground.

Biker dude that yells “on your left” but he is really on my right making me wonder if I have forgotten my directions again.

People that walk behind me on the greenway and gripe loudly about their annoying relationships and won’t pass me no matter how much I slow down.

Cars that drive into puddles.

People that let their wiener dogs jump on me as if they are the most precious things that exist on earth when I know full well they are Satan’s spawn.

My hair.

My laundry that won’t yet wash itself.

My slowness.

Aqua-Breakthrough

A month of flailing my arms and legs around in the pool while trying not to drown is all it took to finally get the hang of this aqua aerobics business. Well, mostly. I still struggle with some of the moves that require my legs and arms to move in crazy ways that would be impossible on land let alone in 8 feet of water that is actively attacking me.

Once my muscles finally got the idea of where they were meant to be, I was able to move them with intent and start to feel the benefit of the activity; it is a good feeling. I cannot actually look at the instructor and her half-hearted demonstrations; instead I stare at the water and picture the moves in my minds eye, which probably means my eyes roll up in my head and I look like I am about to shoot laser beams out of their freaky whiteness.

Eventually, I will explore some other water classes with more capable instructors but for now I will continue to work on my tire run and reverse jumping jacks until my arms and legs can move independently and my eyes do not get so wonky although shooting laser beams would be so cool!

I have also made some progress on the lap swimming front increasing my hourly laps to a consistent 50 up from my previous best of 45. Every session follows the same pattern and no matter how fast I kick my legs, I remain at 50 laps.

My first 5 laps are about warming up and working the kinks out of my body; while I can’t exactly hear them under water, I imagine my joints and muscles are cursing me as they resolve that this workout is actually happening.

In my next 5 laps, I tend to focus on my form, getting everything coordinated and at a reasonable pace to prevent me from sinking to the bottom. Once I hit the 10th lap I wonder how I am going to do that 4 more times but eventually zone out. I think about the day’s task list, what I want to make for lunch, who I want to punch and periodically I hear my inner coach screaming at me to kick my legs harder and move faster reminding me why I am really in the pool.

At lap 25 I get excited knowing I am half way through and note the time to ensure I am on track for goal completion then zone out some more. By lap 40 I begin to tire and my inner coach begins to scream louder, sometimes tossing in profanity, to ensure I end strong.

Depending on my previous progress, I might panic a bit certain I will not make it to 50; I kick my legs harder and start making alternative workout plans to make up for lost laps. Eventually I hit the 50 mark with a bit of time to spare and I casually swim the last lap often doing some spectacular twist or other fancy move to celebrate. I follow everything up with some stretching and a dash to the shower.

Other progress includes little things like remembering towels and under garments and putting on the lotion before I put on the cloths. I have changed up my silver swim cap to a less brain crushing white one so I look like a Q-Tip instead of a pinhead so there is that.

Looking forward to that next aqua-breakthrough as I continue with Operation Suck Less 2014 when I manage to hit 51 laps or when I do those ski mogul things without choking down some water; it should arrive in late summer.

Clockwise At The Gym

Since Mother Nature decided that we needed more days below freezing, I decided to head to the gym yesterday to walk aimlessly around the track. As usual, I gave little thought and began walking in the direction of those who arrived before me, but something was off.

Today was clockwise day, and this lady was boldly walking counter-clockwise. That is not allowed. Gym anarchy!

Then I began doubting myself; maybe she was walking clockwise after all. I hesitated, but continued on in her chosen direction. Finally, I could not take it anymore. I must conform to the rules, they are in place for a reason I am sure. I already have one leg shorter than the other, I do not want to make it any worse by taking uneven turns on a track.

After multiple attempts at normal hair, this is what I looked like at the gym. I love how the B&W setting enhances the circles under my eyes.
After multiple attempts at normal hair, this is what I looked like at the gym. I love how the B&W filter enhances the circles under my eyes.

I kept trying to picture a clock in my head and which way the hands go but my brain was so occupied with the whole walking stuff that I could not get it right. Finally I stopped, turned toward the center of the gym, closed my eyes and tried to imagine a clock. Then I opened my eyes and looked at the giant clock on the wall. Still, I had to use my hands to demonstrate to myself which way was clockwise and then transfer that to the track. I was right; this lady was whack.

But knowing this did not eliminate my problem. Do I say something to her? Am I the track police? What if she doesn’t care about such rules? Do I just start walking in the proper direction and try not to crash into her as our paths cross? Should I just walk the incorrect way until she is done? So many questions!

She was walking toward me and I had decided I was going to mention her directional folly, when she suddenly veered left exited the gym. I did a little happy dance in my brain, woohoo, all is right in the gym track world! I began slowly walking in the proper clockwise direction, relieved of the stress of lawlessness I drifted off in thought as to what I might do to amuse myself for the rest of the day.

Soon, another dude showed up to walk, looked around and began following me. I wanted to turn around and tell him, “you’re welcome, I solved today’s directional challenge,” but I thought that was be a bit weird and I just hate being weird.

My Greenway path that misses me walking on it because the polar vortex hates outside walkers.
My Greenway path that misses me walking on it because the polar vortex hates outside walkers.

Bike Seat Wedgies And Morons Are As Annoying As You Think

When Operation Suck Less in 2014™ was first conceived, I signed up for a wellness program offered by the Y.W.C.A.; I thought it would be a good jumpstart to achieving my goals, give me cheap access to a health club and the insurance reimbursement would be a nice extra bonus.

The 2-month program consists of 3 weekly small group sessions with a trainer covering nutrition and introductory sessions of a variety of exercise classes and activities; the program is set up so you begin at any time and cycle through.

This week’s exercise focused on stationary biking and spinning. I have a recumbent bike sitting in the corner, sad and ignored except for the bras drying on the handlebars. My bike is easy to get on and off, as I recall, and has a nice wide comfy seat for my not-so-nice wide comfy seat. I really like this bike and someday I might get on it again.

For some reason I thought owning an ignored recumbent bike, properly prepared me for health club bikes. I am so, so silly.

We walked into a room filled with rows of silver torture machines, obviously evolved from alien technology, and we were meant to figure out how to adjust them and get our body on one. I kind of figured out the height adjustment but the seat positioning and arm positioning were clearly beyond the scope of my capabilities. The trainer sort of helped me but her clear goal was people on the bikes, now.

Once I was on, I realized the pedals had toe clips that were much too tight for my thick walking shoes. Getting off was not appealing due to the effort I had expended getting on this so called bike, so I tried to bend over from my awkward position to adjust these clips but bonked my head on the handlebars and decided to just fake it.

I attempted to pedal but nothing moved, not in the slightest. I kind of freaked out as I realize pedal movement is key to the act of cycling. The trainer noticed the confused look on my face and finally pointed out the resistance lever set to what I assume was 500 million, so I moved it to 1 and eventually the pedals moved and the panel lit up showing my micro effort.

Once I started to move, I became more uncomfortable. Having a bionic hip means it often feels like I am sitting on a cast iron ball, so I shifted a bit to move this ball and inadvertently gave myself a wedgie; I am certain I have never been so close to clothing in my life and I was uncertain if this closeness could ever be extracted.

I continued the pedaling as best I could and kept trying to find a more comfortable position that was never going to be found. My nether regions, or what ever cute Oprah-esc name you use, will never feel the same again. I admire any woman who has given birth once and chooses to do it a second time because after my one bike session there is no way in hell there will be a second. I may give that comfy recumbent bike a ride, but I will be waiting a few days before I attempt it.

So far the nutrition sessions are utterly pointless. I might not look like I know proper nutrition, but you don’t get an ass like mine without knowing what is good for you so you can avoid it at all costs. I keep hoping there will be some nugget to take away but so far, not so good.

I hate being judged on my looks so it would be totally unfair to judge our training lady based on the fact she is smaller than a 10 year old boy and has probably never had to worry about a piece of chocolate cake going to her hips; instead I will judge her on being a moron and I really don’t do well with morons.

The trainer lady basically reads off her handouts, giggles nervously and, when asked simple questions that even I could answer, she rambles on an on without providing any clarity. Everyone in the session does her best to not glance at each other for fear we might start rolling our eyes or giggling as well.

She shows up each week ill-prepared, never has a room ready, the handouts are not copied and it is obvious she has not even glanced at what she is meant to go over. She awkwardly reads a summary, and then she spends the rest of our allotted time wasting it and rambling. How can we have any confidence in what she is saying when she doesn’t even attempt to show authority?

After a couple weeks of this, I find I do not like her much. I have no desire to punch her, yet, but I spend most of our sessions trying hard to not let my distain permeate the entire room; I hate having my time wasted by others when I am perfectly capable of wasting it in many creative and entertaining ways. While she bugs, I do not stay after our session and complain about her like the other ladies, but it has been tempting.

This week we talked about meal planning, I think, it was hard to follow between the mumbling and the “ums.” I still have no idea what point she was trying to make other than meals should be planned, maybe.

She focused a lot of her rambling on healthy snack option and singled each of us out to share what we choose for healthy snacks. I was first. I had a choice that was probably going to set the tone for the next 19 minutes of hell, play along nicely or bring down the room.

I guess Operation Suck Less in 2014™ could also include being nicer to morons, maybe there is some karma or other benefits to be reaped. So while my inner monologue went on a tangent of snarky comments that I was certain the others would match or how there is no way this ass gets any snack one could deem healthy, I took a deep breath, smiled and said, “Um, an apple.”  Not exactly a lie, I eat apples.

She seemed to be pleased, the other ladies followed with their various snack lies, and finally our lame session was over. How I will make it until this nonsense is over, I have no idea, but I am sure I will have lots of practice being tolerant and probably know nothing new about nutrition.

I did eat an apple today however, I did not get on a bike.

Ch Ch Changes: Minnesota Weather and My Motivation

I try to not get too excited about the weather in Minnesota, it is something I have no control over and it is going to do what it wants no matter what I think about it. I rarely even look at the weather report unless I am traveling.

This year, with the intense grip of the polar vortex, ignoring the weather has been a bit more challenging; even inside, I was usually frozen no matter how many blankets formed my cocoon.

March weather is always a fickle beast; one minute it is rainy, the next the sun is out and then you wake up to snow. The airport gets overrun with people flocking to warmer climates for spring break. I think I always relate to March as I too have rapid and harsh shifts in mood and people run away when they can no longer take it.

This March is no different than years past; yesterday I was bombarded with ice pellets as I tried to scrape frozen ones off my car but an hour later it was sunny and this morning I awoke to some light snow with a weather alert saying inches of it are headed our way later.

Normally I would not care other than to assure I had the proper balance of fat, sugar and salt tucked away in the cabinets. Now, with Operation Suck Less in 2014™, I have no sugar and my only fat delivery mechanisms consist of olive oil and raw nuts. Boring. I mean yummy and good for me.

The timing of this supposed storm leaves me torn. It is scheduled to arrive during my evening exercise class and I find myself wanting it to hit with a vengeance. C’mon storm, give me an excuse to stay home! I am not in the mood to go, my knee is sore, I sliced open my thumb on my favorite knife, my hair is fugly, my emotional exhaustion has now transformed to a physical exhaustion and nearly every part of me wants to stay home and watch bad TV.

Nearly every part or me, there seems to be a tiny annoying voice I am completely unfamiliar with telling me I should still go and will feel better for doing so. What is this crazy positivity seeping from my brain? Can it please be quiet?

Great. Now all the voices in my head won’t even agree on being a lazy sack now and again. Uncool. There is a certain joy in being lazy and skipping doing what is good for you; it is the closest I have as an adult to faking illness and getting out of school. Good times, good times.

I tell myself skipping will only be this one time and I will be back at it tomorrow; really it would be smart if the weather is bad to just stay home and safe. Another voice in my head is laughing so hard it is getting difficult to hear all the conflicting input.

Looking at the weather report there is a 76% chance of snow beginning an hour ago. Looking out my window there is just a few tiniest of tiny flakes falling. Looking at my clock I only have 1 hour for a massive storm to hit and keep me inside with an acceptable excuse.

C’mon storm! C’mon motivation! C’mon brain pick a side!

Screw it. I am going to the gym. I am NOT happy about it. Stupid new voice better be right.

Butt Cramps And Boob Sweat At The Y.W.C.A.

Looking for a change of pace, I decided to head to the gym and take advantage of the track; I wish I could walk outside but it is still freezing and for every clear square of sidewalk there are two covered in ice just waiting to take me out.

The local Y.W.C.A. was formerly a high school so the track is on the upper level overlooking what once was a full basketball court. There are a couple of spongy lanes and it is perfect for my limited needs. The only downer is that the colors are so dull and blah; of all the choices in the crayon box they picked the ones I would toss or let my younger sister use.

The old basketball court is divided in half with one area full of intimidating equipment and the other an open space for pickup games and larger exercise classes. From my vantage point and with my super slow walking pace, I get to take it all in.

Today’s exercise class is Body Pump. I only know this as I briefly considered taking one during that short time when I was actually in decent shape. There was a blend of men and women of various fitness levels all busting their butts to get their butts firm and lifted. Unlike my fellow aqua aerobic peeps, there is no idle chatter and wandering off aimlessly, these people mean business and have the sweat lines to prove it.

The music was loud and provided a decent beat for even us walkers. I decided to rotate in some power walking laps and try to get back my old hip snapping form. It is amazing how much faster I can walk pumping my arms, rolling on my feet and maintaining a relaxed and proper posture. It is more amazing how fast one particular lady at least 20 years my senior can blow past me looking all casual with her iPod as I am pumping my arms like a fool. Today is yours lady, but one day, one day in the future. I will smoke your ass and then go hide in a corner as I try to catch my breath.

Even though it got a bit warmer, I kept my long sleeve black jacket on the entire walk. I am fairly certain this jacket makes all my jiggling parts completely invisible to my fellow humans, so really, it is my gift to them.

On the other half of the gym, there are a variety of people using the equipment but oddly everyone seems to be in the same uniform of black pants and turquoise t-shirts. Clearly, my fuchsia top and invisibility jacket combo need to stay out of this room.

A cute couple was lifting weights and kissing in between sets…awww…barf. Several men were getting all he-man on the various machines, although the dude on the leg press looked like he may have loaded up a bit too much and would be eating his legs soon. I have to give it to the ladies, they had much better form on the free weights than the dudes; I see a back injury in the future of one peacocking a bit too much.

There was a typical person on the stair climber leaning on her arms so much I wonder what muscle is actually getting worked and the treadmills were loaded with both runners and walkers zoning out to their own tunes or morning television. On the elliptical, one dude looked like he was fighting it with every loop while a tiny woman was floating like a gazelle on the next machine; I wonder what it feels like to float like a gazelle.

Walking along staring at the folk below, I imagined what it must look like from their perspective. In one lane, there was a dude doing lunges and groaning with each dip while a runner sprints by. In the slow lane, several ladies are walking at a decent clip except for that one chick meandering about pumping her arms in a flimsy invisibility jacket that was not fooling anyone.

As I kept pumping my arms and rolling my feet, I felt the tiniest of tiny twinges in my butt, almost like the beginning of a muscle cramp and I smiled. I have a butt muscle! A BUTT muscle exists in my butt! I have a buuuuuttttt muscle! Woohoo. So I rubbed it briefly so as not to freak anyone out and picked up the pace. Maybe someday I will have one in the other cheek too. A girl can dream.

Finally, I was ready to cool down and took a casual lap as I stretched my barely there muscles. Shoulder rolls, calf stretches, lower back stretches, I covered them all. Then I felt the oddest thing, a dripping. One bead, then another, going down my cheek near my ear, I believe people call this sweat. Nice. Then another bead down my chest, boob sweat! I can’t remember when I last had boob sweat. Boob sweat is gross and yet oddly welcome today. Obviously all that arm pumping had to have a payoff and what I got was boob sweat.

Butt cramps and boob sweat at the Y.W.C.A.; can a Sunday get any better?

Aqua Aerobics? Aqua-excuse Me?

For Operation Suck Less in 2014™ to be successful, I need to get up off my couch and get moving. I already have my Fitbit and have been slowly ramping up my daily steps to get stronger without reinjuring my various injuries. I have been swimming laps 3 days a week but wanted to try to mix things up so I dove in (not really as it is against the rules) to an aqua aerobics class.

This new class is at the local Y.W.C.A. that I have never stepped foot into despite living within 6 blocks radius of for decades. It is intimidating enough to go into a new health club, but this one was extra scary with all the fake owls in the parking ramp to scare off the birds that like to flock nearby. I parked, looked up, squealed like the girl I am, took a breath and headed in.

Once I got through all the paperwork I didn’t read, tour, and locker room instruction, I got into my swimsuit, pinhead swim cap and headed to the pool. I dipped my toe into the shallow end and immediately shuddered. This pool was over 12 degrees colder than the one where I swim laps and being nearly naked it feels like I am doing a polar plunge.

I slowly kept walking into the chill, staying on my tiptoes as if that somehow kept me warmer. Finally, I just dipped all the way under and popped out covered in goose bumps. I held myself trying to stay warm while I walked about the pool looking for this class that was not materializing.

About 10 minutes after the designated start time, a woman, gonna call her Ava for no good reason, arrived in her parka and boots and random people started to emerge from the locker room, sauna, whirlpool and elsewhere. Everyone was grabbing floating belts and began dog paddling to and fro. I stood around clueless.

Finally Ava, began barking her instructions. Swim dog paddle to the deep end. Breaststroke to the shallow. Row your boat to the deep end. Army-crawl to the shallow. Once she got past the 4 swim stokes I know, I was completely confused. I have no boat to row. What the hell is an Army-crawl? I tried my best to pick up what to do from the fellow oldsters but most of them were just flapping about and crashing into each other.

My first class was basically just me flailing about trying not to hit anyone and pretending I knew what I was doing. I even stayed after to swim laps as I wasn’t sure I had any real exercise in that hour.

Ava never gets in the pool; she sits on the side and yells half instructions. She also gets up and goes to chat with other staffers leaving us to indefinitely row our boats until our boats say screw you I don’t want to be rowed any more.

Most of the exercise moves have names I can eventually figure out. Bicycle, twist, cross-country ski but I was particularly confused but this “tire run” nonsense I was supposed to do. Eventually I gathered I was supposed to pretend I was running through tires keeping my knees high and going in and out; I tripped a couple times just to make it authentic.

Ava has an issue with counting. She is good at “4, 3” but neglects “2, 1”; I am never sure if I am supposed to do 2 more of one move or jump to the next. I am not sure it matters, I just keep moving.

Maybe this is true of regular aerobic classes, but seems half the participants are there to chat. And chat and chat. Eventually, Ava will jump in and there will be a group discussion of the news while I am still doing my tire run trying to coordinate my arms and legs and not drown.

My favorite part of the class is when Ava will try to get people to switch up the obvious ways to move our arms and legs and get our minds to get our limbs to do something new. Everyone looks perplexed and the loudest of the talkers will go on and on about the impossibility of this new move. I try to tune it all out and do as intended until Ava gives up and has us go back to the familiar.

The class mixes in some resistance moves and eventually ends with some stretching and a race from the pool to the awesomeness awaiting in the warm showers.

I have been to 4 classes now. I have remembered to bring a towel 3 times and underwear twice and the time I forgot both presented some unique challenges with my departure. I am still not used to the chill but I am getting the moves down a bit more. Not sure if this is helping much with Operation Suck Less in 2014™ but I am certain it is not hurting.