Monday, 24 September 2012

The awkward stage lasts forever (a rant)

I am a fortunate vegbrarian in a lot of ways.  One of those ways is that my workplace has free lunch hour fitness classes for people who buy a (very cheap) yearly membership to our gym.  Like pretty much everyone else in the world, I hate getting up early to hit the gym before work, so the lunch hour the classes are a pretty nice feature that helps to keep me in some semblance of a shape.  They have a variety of different themes that repeat each week, so you can focus on your cardio or your glutes or whatever.


The problem with the fitness classes is the GODDAMN FLOOR TO CEILING MIRROR that mercilessly taunts me.  Now you'd probably suspect this problem would be something bodily related, and you'd be right.  But it's not that I'm unhappy with my weight (I'm of skinny to average build), and it's not that my boobs are jumping around like toddlers hyped up on "go-go juice" (also don't suffer from that particular malady)... it is that I am mercilessly, brutally, embarassingly, horrifically CLUMSY and AWKWARD.

"Oh but silly vegbrarian, everyone has been there..." BLAH BLAH BLAH, etc.  Yeah, most people go through an awkward phase where their limbs are outrageously out of control when they are teenagers and still growing into their adult bodies.  My problem is that for some reason, my brain's ability to coordinate my over-long limbs never happened.  So there I am, attempting a step class, and all I see in that heinous floor to ceiling mirror is this horrific caricature and muppet-esque woman flailing her arms and legs wildly like Kermit the frog on ecstasy. 


Part of what makes this so awful, exacerbating the issue and making my lack of grace all the more obvious to onlookers, is the fact that I am a tall person.  Tall, thin people are supposed to be graceful, like gazelles or whatever.  They are not supposed to look like those wavvy-armed tube men that car dealerships put outside on weekends to draw in customers.  By the good graces of genetics and a healthy vegan diet, I should be a statuesque waif floating lightly down the halls with effortless grace.

But this is not to be, and oh yes, I do have theories as to why I won out on all these fronts only to lose when it comes to coordination.  None of which are particularly science-y. Part of it is a lack of depth perception, and part of it is the fact that I have absolutely no idea how big my own body is.  Which is weird, because I am really good at parallel parking because I am very aware of the exact dimensions of my car, and yet I can't figure out how far away my own knees are from my head.

And there is no cure.  I am tall and I am clumsy.  And the awkward stage lasts forever... 

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