How to Eat a Bear

Today was my first day of training to become a Qualified Body Flow instructor.

Dear gods, I am in pain.

It was only seven and a half hours (originally scheduled to be nine), approximately five-and-a-half of which was pure physical exertion. Normally I save that sort of concentrated muscle-torture for things like Surf Days… bleh.

My first thought upon walking into the room was, “Holy crap! Everyone is tall and wearing makeup!” I was(/am) neither. The makeup also gave me the impression that everyone was impeccably put together and beautiful, and my poor little ego shriveled. Then I remembered that it it’s pretty much retarded to be that done up for a group fitness class, and my self-confidence rose. My unmade face spoke of serious athleticism! Nevermind the fact that I was literally one of the least fit people in the class… No, seriously. I know that I’m fairly fit, but these people? They made me look doughy and turtle-like. ::sigh:: And oh how my triceps betrayed me- after about hour four they just plain wouldn’t work anymore. As I lay there, useless appendages crumpled beneath me, all I could think was, “What happened to my surfer-girl arms?” (To be completely truthful, my thoughts were more along the lines of, “I love you, floor.” The surfer-girl thought didn’t come until later…)

All that being said-

I loved it. Oh, how I loved it. And as much pain as I’m in (and again- I am in pain!) I am also thoroughly relaxed. And totally stoked to be learning this with such personalized attention to my personal form.

Tomorrow was originally slated for eleven hours, but I’m hoping we’ll be closer to eight. The high point of the day? I get to teach a track. I’ve just spent the past hour or so trying to learn it well enough to teach it (verbal cues and all) on the morrow. The thought of eventually having the entire thing memorized is just mind-boggling… so I won’t think about it. I’ll eat my bear one bite at a time.