The Perils of Gym Going PART TWO

I have two words for you: Stump Class. The explanation on my gym’s website states that Stump Class is a combination of two things called Stepping and Pump Class (weight training). It adds “make sure you give yourself three or four times to become familiar with the steps.” I think to myself, “I have walked up steps before, I am sure I can go up and down on just one.” I start to get a little nervous when I clarify with the front desk lady which room the class is in and she repeats the warning from the description. As I enter the large room with the stage up front, I first notice that there are mirrors on every wall of the room as well as weight machines and free weights around the perimeter. I approach a very serious person, ready to go with her step in front of her, and asked in a voice resembling a kindergartener if this is “Stump”. She informs me curtly that it is and that I need to get a step from the hallway and a “Plate”. I look frantically around the room for what she could possibly mean as a plate. I see various things that I hope are not a “plate” one of which is one of those skateboard tops with the rolly thing underneath that you use for balance… I swallow the large lump in my throat and consider running from the room but too many people have seen me. So I trudge out to get my “step”. I grab the large platform and then try to grab the four gigantic, plastic, Lego-like squares that attach to make it an actual step. This proves more difficult than I had anticipated and several people come and go collecting their own steps. I try to look like I am debating about which of the hundred identical cubes I will choose. I watch how they manage to carry all of the components at once, copy their technique and stumble my way back into the room. Then the instructor tells us we need a plate. I wait, “pondering” again, until the others go and get one of the large, round, flat weights and I follow suit like I have finally made up my mind.

Comfortable now that I can do this (because it is not the skateboard/rolly thing), I grab a big one like everyone else had and haul it back to my step. The room fills with even more very serious people. The instructor then asks if there is anyone new. I put up my hand and she says “Don’t worry; it takes at least 3 or 4 times to get the steps.” Now I definitely want to leave but I can’t because everyone is looking at me so I try and find my most enthusiastic smile and give her a thumbs-up. Then the music starts and she starts yelling “just up and tap”.

“I got this!” I think, “This is just stepping and tapping your foot.” Then it is up and tap your heal and I am like, “Whatever, they clearly don’t know I used to dance as I child. I am going to be the most amazing first-time stump person EVER!” I amuse myself for a few minutes picturing the instructor coming up afterwards to congratulate me on how amazing I am. Then she says, “That was our warm up! Okay, here we go!” Now she is saying things like Grape Vine and I know what a grapevine is but I am not exactly sure how to incorporate it into my step. Everyone is stomping in unison and the girl in front of me has decided that stepping and weight training mixture is not enough – this should be a dance class as well! So she is flailing her arms back and forth and in wide dancing arcs (still not smiling though). Then everything becomes a blur as we make our way through steps such as Sumo and Macarena (which I also remember from the nineties but can’t quite understand how to incorporate into a step nor the associated clapping). And then there is Basic which is not basic and involves stepping over (and I am pretty sure some people went under) their step. Then there is the Marching Around the Step where I am always going the wrong way and almost smacking into the guy next to me.

                Now it seems that, just because there is a class in the room, it doesn’t mean people can’t come and do other things. First there is the old man, fully dressed in jeans and a winter jacket and carrying two bags, looking a little lost who wanders in and out of the rows of steppers and up to the stage where he stops for a minute to (as I would if I were him) ponder the insanity. Satisfied that we are all certifiable, he sits on the chest-fly machine, gives it a couple of squeezes and walks out. Highlight of the class! Low point of the class was the young guys training for the… sitting marathon? It must be an event where you lift a little and then stand around and watch everyone for 20 minutes: if so, they are going to WIN!

Finally we switch to resistance training, which I can comprehend because it is things like lift your leg and do a crunch etc., words I recognize as opposed to Cross Over Double Back which sounds more like the name of a spy mission than a step move. Unfortunately, because I had copied everyone and taken one of the heaviest weights, halfway through I have to do the walk of shame back to the racks to get a lighter one. The Dancer/stepper/weightlifter is not impressed with this at all. I try not to make eye contact as I slink down to my spot again. And, much to my chagrin, the stepping portion is not over. We have to get up and do it again. The instructor keeps saying some of the same moves as before but with new endings like Sumo Double Back instead of just Sumo. And Macarena Pop and Basic with Side L…

So now I find I am just spinning around and around in a circle that sometimes includes stepping on my step (picture Alex in Flashdance). Annoying dancer/stepper/weightlifter girl is doing it all perfectly and incorporating her extra dance moves. As for me, avoiding smacking into the guy next to me becomes my only goal. At one point I am so dizzy and, along with the Michael Jackson music blaring, I am pretty sure I time traveled and was in this same class in the eighties, legwarmers and all…

I make it to the end where I do not get my accolades but instead the instructor says “Wow, you made it to the end…” and of course she reminds me to “give it time…” I nod and smile and thank her. Two days later I am back at home with my good old dumbbells and exercise ball because I do not think three or four times will ever be enough.