Challenge 3 Revisited

I’m done with my third challenge! I did all 6 weeks of Steel Edge! I only missed one class, because of a very misguided hair decision.

Although I don’t have the measurements that Desiree took, I can safely say that I went from 122 pounds to 130 pounds. I’m also happy to announce that my butt finally showed up for work, after being AWOL for thirty years. I was pretty happy about that after busting my ass doing squats and stuff. I think I look a bit different, too. 

I still can’t say that I enjoy exercise. I’ve come to the conclusion that I absolutely hate it. It’s something about touching multiple surfaces and the noise level in a gym. My heart gets its anxiety workouts daily, and going to a place that makes the anxiety worse, with the intention of making my heart rate faster is still not my idea of fun.

I’d post progress pics, but eh… I’m not really into putting my body out there on display for Internet strangers. I was able to lifts a few pounds heavier every session though. This was probably the first time I’ve seen results from doing ay kind of workout. That’s pretty awesome.

Since I realized I don’t like working out, I signed up for two more classes. I don’t think I’m the best self-starter when it comes to doing things I really don’t like, especially dragging myself out of our comfortable air-conditioned home into the Guam heat and humidity. The best way to make sure I’m at the gym is by financially making sure I can’t choose to not go. Checkmate, Iris.

I’m pretty happy about my experience at the gym. I did get upset when my fiancée mentioned that some dude felt the need to make a racist joke saying my Senegalese twists making me look like I was straight out of Compton. I don’t know how a simple hairstyle can make a person look like they’re from somewhere, but akay.

It’s disappointing to know that you can mind your business, work out and not bother anyone, but still be targeted by racism. It’s more than disappointing actually. It ruined my day, because I felt pretty comfortable there. I was under the impression no one was watching our class, because they were concentrating on their own workouts. Cue the incoming anxiety and self-consciousness. But Jack assured me that dude doesn’t go there regularly, so whatever. I’m gonna keep doing my thing, which is literally working out then going home smh. It would be nice to just live in a world where people don’t feel the need to make the assumption that I’m from “the hood” because I have twists and dark-skin