Step class.
I realize I am not an expert in pretty much anything and more often than not my talents are forgettable at best (making banana bread, the ability to not botch most lyrics to most songs, remembering to water plants, tree pose in yoga, drinking)But it hasn't been since grade school that I have felt my coordination (or lack there of) rear its ugly head and make a mockery out of me. That is until I decide to take BASIC Step at the New York Sports Club on 52nd and Broadway. Sometimes, I guess my right foot prefers lunging when the instructor wants my left foot too. And for it being beginner, was I expected to know what "around the world was?" Half way through the instructor came up to me and all I said was "yes...I know. I'm leaving". One might think that this kind of embarressment would crush me for the evening...but I must admit, it felt good to feel bad. I hadn't been humiliated in quite some time and it definitely put things into some bizzar-o perspective courtesy of a step and 4 risers. And while I may not be able to master the 32 count syncopated coreography...I'm pretty sure I'm cooler than the 8 other people who could AND I was able to catch an earlier bus home. I win.
Why would I want to remember such a cringe worthy 30 minutes of my life other than that everyone every once in awhile should feel like a douchebag?? Because the woman who created step aerobics...yea, her name is Gin. Gin Miller. And she looks like this:
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