Salvation via sweating

Interesting classes at the gym last night. I showed up to one class that has a 5-person max and there was one person. She was very anxious because it was class time and she knew someone else was coming, so she bustled out. I tracked down person #3 to come join us, and the others sauntered in eventually. The missing person turned out to be 14 or 15 year old S (I'm bad at making up names, so I'll just use her initial. Another reason not to have any kids. They would probably be named after whatever pops into my head based on visual clues, and then nick-named to high heaven. I think it's a genetic issue. I myself was named after a dog.) who was disgruntled from the start, surly, wouldn't practice any of the moves I was showing her so she'd be ready to start, and clearly wanted everyone to know that this was not her choice. Her outfit in which to workout was quite similar to the one here. I'm not sure where her aunt told her she was taking her to convince to her leave the texting, Facebooking, and premarital sex at home, but she wasn't really dressed the part.

Taking skills that I learned from my parents, I ignored the attitude, and figured I could teach her what she needed to know as she went. Within about 4 minutes, I could see a little transformation happen. She has no muscles to speak of, but insisted on loading up the weights. I think this is part cockiness and part naivete, to which I could relate. I let her load it, figuring that she would switch her selection when she realized it was too much. Nope. That would be to admit she was wrong, and teens are never wrong, so she was going to suffer through it. She got to one point and I told her that she had to lessen the weight load or stop, and she could blame it on me if she wanted. But back to the transformation: as we went through class, she stopped with the huffiness, smiled some, admitted it was hard, laughed with me a little bit, and might have even had fun. It was pretty cool -- and I had fantasies that maybe some focused exercise would save her from the collision course that her life is on (she said some things after class that were a little too revealing in response to a comment I'd made to someone else. She had misunderstood what I'd said and in prime teen-fashion, decided it was about her, and said that things had gotten so bad, her parents wanted to bring her to Dr. Phil. Hmmm. What do you think, Mom? Kids are acting out and making a mess of themselves -- I know! Put them on TV! I'm lucky to have had parents who were a little more into parenting than that. Of course, there's a lot I'm assuming and only a little I know.). Her form wasn't great and her aunt, who had tricked her into coming commented to her from across the room. I told the aunt that she was doing okay and not in so many words told her that 1) I was on top of the situation and 2) the success that S was enjoying was by far making up for the lack of form.

Aye. I'm kind of hoping she comes back. It will be good for my therapy-through-exercise fantasy.

This weekend marks the second annual trek up the Ink Grade in Napa. I'm nervous, but I know that I need to talk myself through it and focus on my ability rather than my anxiety. It was hard last year, but I did it (with some whining), and I'll do it again. Maybe I'll even do it better. I think I might need to start working tonight on what channel my head is tuned to so that I'm ready early in the morning.

You can sort of see what I'm talking about re: this ride here. If you're looking at that link, we'll be picking up around mile 30 of that ride (so not doing that first hill), and taking on those other two -- including Ink Grade that goes straight up.

I look forward to the day I can turn my alarm off for the weekend, get some sleep, get some stuff done around the house, and maybe even return to those weeds (that have become quite prolific in the last few weeks). Looks like I have a weekend off around May 9th.