You may think, my dear reader, that I exist in binary, in one of two states: at Jazzercise or waiting to Jazzercise. I’ll admit to getting itchy and anxious, and needing to get my plié squats on to some Taylor Swift after a particularly sedentary day. You know, #justdudestuff. On rare occasions, I find that I’m having trouble mustering the motivation that you’d expect someone high on the 150 class challenge leaderboards to have no issue with. I’ve got to chase down and surpass Helene, after all, like a stalking cheetah sneaking up on jazzercising wildebeest.
On Wednesday of this week, however, I was not feeling it. My muscles were sore, and my energy was low. Then I remembered that I had a bottle of GNC workout pills that some clerk had talked me into a couple years back when I was on a fitness binge. These are the huge horse pills that you take 6 of, 30 minutes before you work out. They taste awful, but contain caffeine and stimulants to make you want to work out, and then fat burners and other things that are supposed to intensify the results. I checked the bottom of the jar, and they were still before their expiry date. “How many is the right amount if I’m just dancing around to Rhianna?” I wondered. “Do I really need six? Could it possibly trigger a freak out at jazzercise and end with me trying to bench press Helene?” Might I get so aggressive that I put an elbow through the wall during a particularly jabby Britany Spears number? What if, after several low impact numbers, I angrily commandeer the ipod and force the class to do a full hour of jumping in place to Pitbull’s “Mmm Yeah”. So many worrisome questions and hypothetical scenarios that might put me at odds with the jazzercise elders.
The aforementioned pump up pills are in a bottle from GNC labeled “Rampant: Beyond Raw”, and containing as many bold-typeface bro words as they could fit on the front of the logo. Descriptors like “Intense Pumps”, “Razor Sharp Focus”, “Vascularity” “Combat Free radicals” remind you that these aren’t your grandma’s Rampant brand workout pills – you need a Harley Davidson, a tribal shoulder tattoo and an Affliction t-shirt to even be allowed to buy the jar. So I took 3 of them, figuring they might get me most of the way there to a well-motivated state, but not enough to require spiking my hair up and shaving in a ornately styled goatee.
I DID get more pumped up, though. My moves were intense, my energy reserves were high, and I ended the first hour of class without either a wardrobe change or even touching my water bottle. Yeah, I usually have to bring a second t-shirt to class because I sweat through the first one after an hour – remember… we talked about how gross and sweaty I am in an early edition? I don’t know how much of the detected energy boost was placebic, but It was something I noticed.
I entered a couple 5k races over the next two saturdays. It dawned on me that I haven’t run in a coordinated race since High School Cross Country – nearly 20 years. So, I’m trying to parlay my jazzercise-earned fitness credits into alternate disciplines. I’ll let you know how they go – the first one is this Saturday. Perhaps my jazzercise bro-pills will be leveraged to gain a needed competitive edge!