Well, I joined the local gym about a month or so ago.  When Mr. M came home from work one early evening, I turned our daughter's care over to him and proceeded to get ready for my gym experience that evening.  I dressed appropriately, completed by my Nikes with the pink swoosh, then grabbed my iPod and water bottle and headed out the door. 

I drove a few minutes to the Main Street location and once inside I fixed my sights on an unoccupied treadmill.  After carefully entering my weight, age, and time of desired workout the belt slowly began to move.  I pushed the power button for the small attached television screen and began to flip through the channels, settling on one about homes that will never ever be in my price range.  Satisfied with this choice, I plugged the earbuds of my iPod in my ears and was content to simply view the images of the gorgeous homes as Adam Lambert sang, "Whataya want from me?" in my ears.

A few minutes into the workout I saw the owner of the gym out of the corner of my eye and unplugged my earbuds to say hello.  She asked if I was going to join the aerobics class which, from the sound of the music, had just started.  I gave it some thought, then decided to give it the old college try. 

Upon entering the room I was greeted by Michael Jackson belting out "Beat It" over the stereo speakers and my heart started pumping.  The room was filled with other women, but not of the same type I was used to joining in aerobics classes.  Most women I have attended class with are the hoity toity type...you know the ones, they have matching EVERYTHING.  And then there's me in my old racing t-shirt and sweatpants.  Yeah.

But not this class.  These ladies looked to be everyday women I'd shop beside in the grocery store.  They were real.  I was ecstatic!  I joined in beside them and worked up a sweat for the next hour.  It felt great!  After class, the instructor and I introduced ourselves to one another and I promised to be back for another class.

I've kept true to that promise at least once a week for the past few weeks.  And I've even managed to avoid having to work out in front of the mirror. 

Until today.

It appeared I would luck out again as I grabbed my usual spot near the wall, far away from the mirror.  The music started pumping through the room as we began our warm up.  A few ladies showed up late so I scooted over and made room. 

And then I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.  All this time I'd been thinking I looked exactly like our instructor when I did those moves.  She moved gracefully, like a dancer or a gymnast and I modeled my movements after hers.  Or at least I thought I did.  No, what appeared in the mirror before me was my own image but doing movements that made me look like a dancing frog. 

Really graceful...I know.

So I attempted to move back toward the wall and managed not to have to look at myself in the mirror for the rest of the class.  It's a good thing, too, because we were doing some really graceful moves.  I'd hate to think what that looked like.

I figure that as long as I can secure that spot near the wall - and away from the mirror - I'll be just fine.  Who cares if I look like an awkward dancing frog?  At least I'm going.