uncoordinated.period.

You know those days when you decide to try something new, so you plan to go to a nice, relaxing, yoga class at the gym? You think about it all day, how you’re probably going to kind of make an ass of yourself, but it will be for the greater good of your tendons and muscles, so you suck it up, and get yourself ready, and drive to the gym.

Stepping out of your comfort zone, good for you. You’re ready for this.

Then you get up to the fitness classroom, and look around, find your place, and too-late realize you’ve made a terrible mistake. Because this is not a yoga class. You read the schedule wrong because obviously you’re a moron, and you are now standing in the middle of a dozen women setting up ridiculous amounts of equipment, with muscles everywhere, and the instructor is wearing a headset and talking about getting your “bench” in place, and how you’ll need weights and resistance bands and, if the music is any indication, a level of coordination you do not have.

It’s too late to sneak out though and people are looking at you because you’re in their way, and obviously you’re new, and you can’t just chicken out now and let everyone know you’re too dumb to read a schedule, so you take a deep breath, and try to keep up with the rest of the women but it’s impossible because you don’t even know what a “march and pop” move even is, and what in the hell does that work anyway? And there are combo moves where you’re supposed to kick and scuttle and do all sorts of stuff in time and what the hell were you thinking?!?

But somehow you make it through the entire hour without kicking anyone else in the face or falling down or knocking over an entire rack of weights. And you think, well, that was a ridiculously clumsy step out of your comfort zone. But it wasn’t so bad.

And then you pray no one secretly recorded this class and it ends up on youtube.

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