Hate Aerobics? Read This.

I’ve always hated exercising. Imagine a person with three left feet--that's me.

Sad but true:
In grade school the opposing team cheered when I came up to bat.
My PE teachers actually gave up on me, letting me struggle alone while they worked with the kids with some hope of catching the ball.
Miss Tommi would stop ballet class: “Everyone look at Lyttie. This is not the way you do it.”

But back in January I set a goal of getting in shape. I joined a gym, mostly riding the stationary bike or swimming in the pool.

This week, for the first time, I tried an aerobic class, something called
Total 45: “Fun dance class for all fitness levels. You will feel energized for hours.”

That class was the scariest class I’ve ever been in.

Typical directions from instructor: “Okay windmill one two, grapevine three four, add the arms. Left foot chassée five six. Now right. Repeat. Doubletime.”

Here’s me, always a step or four behind, always using the wrong foot. I could barely lift my knees. My elbow hurt. In short, I did not feel energized. I felt like a piece of garbage.

Then I got the strangest idea—Why not pray?
So as I stumbled along, I looked up. “God, show me how you want me to be.”

Instantly this thought came into my head: Your only goal is to get some exercise. It wouldn’t matter if you just marched in place.

For the first time in my life, I realized The Truth.

After that, I loved being a day late and a dollar short. I loved me. I was getting exercise.

I left feeling energized for hours.