Colorado, Colorado ... the thin state

I think everyone here is thin. I mean it. I find myself purposfully looking for people who are fat. And there are a few, I mean a blessed few, who I think can appreciate a good piece of cheesecake ala' mode. But those few cheesecake officianados are hard to find, and I think are perhaps illegally out and about during daylight hours with the rest of the thin and athletic looking types. I think it is a state law or something.

I don't own a bike, and this fact alone might become a problem if I expect to make any new friends in Colorado. I tried to take a "spin" class with my little sister, Maranda, when I lived in Las Vegas. I hated it. Not because I was tired or worn out ... I was in great shape ... but it hurt my butt, I mean alot, even with the special padded but cushion the instructor let me borrow. I tried it, twice, I still avoid it. Every gym here offers it as a class, at least 4 times a day. Gross. Our city, in particular, has main roads with huge lanes (which a car could easily fit into) dedicated to "bike lanes". God help you if you try and maneuver your SUV into a bike lane. Bike helmets are a fashion yes, yes! Everyone seems to either have a helmet on their head, or hanging off of their person somewhere.

The carpool lane has disinegrated from SUV lane (where I feel very comfortable in my gas guzzling Expedition) to "bike and haul behind trailer" lane. I don't like it, it's wierd, and I don't like the looks I get because I don't have a bike and subsequent haul behind trailer holding my 14 month old with his own personalized bike helmet. Sure, we only live about 5 blocks from the school, but it's hot here. I mean, it's like 85 degrees and sunny. I made the mistake of walking to the school one sunny afternoon to pick up the boys. Drew's response, "where's the truck?" I told him I walked. Drew's response, "what's wrong with you?!" Yes, he's a charmer that one. Bradyn's response, "I'm going to DIIIIIIIIIEEE if I have to walk all the way hoooooooooome!" Noone died, but I think we resembled more of a death march than a happy sporty family walking home from school. The kids bitched, I yelled, and the dog sort of whimpered.

Shorts are in, as are tank tops ... all of which only magnify the fact that we have been living in the frozen tundra (New England) for the past four years and never saw sunlight. Myself and the kids look like Albinos ... not kidding, pasty Albinos.

So in an attempt to assuage this situation about not feeling fit enough to live in Colorado, I took a break from unpacking, packed up Caden (the 14 month old), and GPS'd my way to a few local gyms. Let me assure you, that here in the thin state, there are about 5 gyms within a 1-2 mile radius of my house, and if I was a true Coloradoite, I would have attached the GPS to my bike and accompanying haul behind kid trailer and rode to said gyms to check them out. I think there are at least 40 or so in our town. Not kidding. Anyhow, I toured, and chatted, and talked, and finally signed up.

Now, let's be clear. The last year has not been fantastic for me in terms of physical or mental health for that matter. The physical and the mental being this ongoing circle. In a nutshell, I had a baby, had some health issues, the kids got busy, and I started working full time ... all this and I quit teaching aerobics for about 7 months. This means the 30 lbs of baby fat are still happily sitting on my behind, which has affectionately become an "office ass" over the tenure of working full time and sitting at a desk all day. So, now that I am in the thin state, no longer working full time, and have regained some sanity in my life, me and my "office ass", are on a mission of health both mental and physical. It is this attitude I took to the gym with me the next morning to take my first aerobics class in 7 months.

To be clear, I AM a certified aerobics instructor. I taught for years, I taught REALLY hard classes, people moaned and complained and we worked harder and I relished in the pain. SO, I was thinking to myself, how hard could this REALLY be? 2 issues at hand. First, the sedentary 7 months and the three 10 lb sacks of potatoes I carry on my frame now. Second, I lived at SEA LEVEL in New Hampshire. I mean the OCEAN was right at my front door. Then we moved within 30 minutes of a town lovingly referred to as the "mile high" city. Why? Because it's a @*$%$(*@ mile ABOVE sea level. What does all this mean to those of you not familiar with air terms? It means at sea level the air is THICK and aerobic activity wherein you utilize extra oxygen is AVAILABLE to use! Here in Colorado, the air is THIN, THIN, THIN, and the oxygen you need to, oh, I don't know, BREATHE, is not really there.

So, I started the class fairly strong and 5 minutes in I was thinking, "I want to die now, what's wrong with me?" Then I started to think, "now Cortney, you know answer, your body will fight the activity for the first 10 minutes and then it will resolve that you aren't going to quit!" (at least that is what I told my students!) ... so I watch the clock ... okay, 10 minutes, we ARE doing this ... really? Really, I am doing this? I then started a mental battle in my head that fortunately lasted until the end of the hour and a half aerobics class. By the time my body had given in that I was not quitting the class was over. The instructor knew I was from New Hampshrie and she said something about elevation killing me. Huh? Oh, yeah. Duh.

I'm proud to say I soldiered on and got through the lack of oxygen deprivation, shin splints, and general anxiety about going to the bathroom because it hurt my thighs to "sit" down on the potty. The soreness is going away, I am adjusting to the "mile high" status, and I think I am ready to run a marathon now ... at sea level, of course. Most important, I am really enjoying the every day classes, and getting back to myself ... which I think I lost a portion of in the last year.

Now, that's not to say that I have gone to "fitness town". I did notice a group of 3-4 ladies (around my age) who seem rather die hard . I thought I might want to be their friend when I first met them, they seemed the epitomy of the thin Coloradoite, but then I overheard them after class on Monday talking about how it was "weigh in" time. What? Excuse me? I listened in a little more and realized these crazy broads all "weighed in" once a week at the gym and then compared numbers! It goes against every portion of my being as a person or as an instructor to even THINK about doing something like that! AUGH! Do my pants fit? Yes. Okay, I'm good. Doesn't matter what the scale says, and I certainly am not going to SHARE ... unless of course I am 120 lbs on my 5'11" frame, then I share with the world ... who would already assume I weighed 120 lbs because I would look like Lindsey Lohan ... gross.

So, I guess they won't be my new friends. Maybe the chubby kid in the back of the room. She looks like she needs a friend. Just wait until I start teaching the step class in the Fall, ladies. There will be a "no weigh in policy" instituted! hahaha! Ho hum, today I did have a moment of remiss looking round the room and missing my classes in New Hampshire. I made so many great friends teaching ... friends that I will cherish forever. And I have NEVER had as much fun as I did teaching aerobics in New Hampshire ... people here are way to serious. Feel the burn, but enjoy the journey to the burn!

For now ...