my entire high school career under the influence of the cheebah, cheebah. No, I don't need your tears. Those five years of high school were great. Just kidding I did it in four (barely) I think Becky and I still owe for overdue Library books.Anyhoo...with this reunion just around the corner I have decided to take on this workout thing like a champ. I have been doing this with my friend Erica that has me in all kinds of classes that are kicking my flat ass.
So, two or three weeks ago we started this class called Turbo Kick Boxing. Yes the class is as vicious as it sounds. Turbo Kick Boxing?, what the hell kinda person would put that kind of adjective before the words Kick Boxing and actually expect people to willingly come. I know who, the same person that created High School Reunions, Wedding Days, First Dates, Unexpected Encounters with Exes and yes the dreaded KRISPY KREME DONUTS.
So I took my ass to the class. The instructor started with her safety instructions which included if you have to throw up please leave the class in time enough to make it to the bathroom. WHAT THE FUCK DID THAT BITCH JUST SAY? I look to my right at my friend who looks as scared as I was (no help), to my left stands a black woman who looks like any minute she would and could kick my ass and then the skinny fragile chic in front of me turns around and says "no she's just kidding". Kidding my ass...at one point I had to take my hat off revealing what I'm sure looked like the hairdo of my ancestors and, no I'm not talking about my mothers Native American side. The only thing that kept me going was that I was determined not to be the "big girl" that left the class because she shit her pants. But what should I be worried about...I would have along with me my slim friend leaving the same class with the same amount of shit in her pants as well but I did survive the class and the instructor kept congratulating us as if she was sayin' I can't believe y'all made it. So I've been to this class taking this and other kick boxing classes and just this week have inserted Latin Cardio. Hurray right...Wow Denise you are really kickin' up your game plan. There is a method to my madness...FOOD!!!! I love the shit. I love biscuits and Five Guys. I love CPK's Margarita Pizza and Ledo's ANYTHING. I love Starbucks Mocha everything and yes KRISPY KREME DONUTS!!! So, I've decided to work out more so that I can eat what I like.
So, today when my GIRL, my ACE BOO-COO, my RIDE OR DIE said she was packing for her weekend in South Beach I said well I was gonna lift with Becky after our class anyway...who knew that the next words outta my mouth would be "SO I THINK I'LL JUST WALK OVER TO BECKY'S". Who said that, who took control of my otherwise filthy mouth and spoke those adventurous lies???? Who I wanna know who?
Now, for those who have spent any time with me you know that I am scared of most things...fuck it I'm scared of everything. So I took my fanny pack, my new Black Berry (that I'm sure my boss is going to make me pay for with a blow Job as a Hanukkah present to himself.) my keys, my credit card (that lately serves as a 2nd form of ID instead of a source of funds) and a long sleeved T just in case and was out the door.
I started at a pace that Bruce Jenner would have been proud of. Me and that filthy mouth Missy Elliot (my soul sista) were off to grandma's house. I turned onto Muddy branch and I felt my adrenaline pumpin'. "Whew Wee I feel great". The wind is blowing and I am a new kinda me. Y'all shoulda seen me. My shit was like the fuckin' marathon man (that's for you Beck). I hit my 1 mile mark and surprised even myself with the less than 15min. it took me to get there and the enormous amount of energy I still had. So screw y'all. Screw all the men that didn't want me and screw (with any luck) all the men that I will one day be able to call my ex lovers. It was then in my midst of vanity that I made mistake number one. I called my friend (huh) and say "girl Imma keep on". Now, I'll tell you that I made this call because she has offered to pick me up if I felt fatigued or came to my sanity because she too thought this was quite an undertaking.
After declining her offer I kept on truckin' dah, dee dah...dah dee dah. "Wow, this is some hill here. Wow I don't remember this incline being so high when I'm driving home. I think I may just call the city and tell them that they may want to come out and check to assure that the levels are not increasing." Doesn't matter I got this. Dah dee de- dah dee doo. On and on I go and my pace has not decreased. But my ability to walk and hold my stomach in has. Oh yeah and that Fuckin Missy is gettin' on my nerves with all the high impact music of hers so I switch to a tempo that is more complimentary to how I feel..."where is that Lauryn Hill" So me and Lauryn are off. I hit the 2 mile mark. Funny thing is that I don't feel like I did at the 1 mile. As a matter of fact I think I feel a little dizzy. Remnants of my home are no where to be found. But I'm good, I'm a soldier I'm gonna make this journey. But it was at that point that I realized I had made my Second mistake. TIMING!!!! "OH SHIT" the sun is starting to set. What the hell was I thinking? I am more than half way there which means I'm more than half way away from home and yes, the bathroom. That churning in my stomach is either the DDP's or the newly acquired fear of the drunks that are lingering at the bus stop ahead. Are they waiting on the bus or me? I stand up straight; take all the energy I can conjure up and sing along with the Pod as I pass them to imply that I am a fearless female. Them Mother Fuckers didn't even look at me. Now I'm insulted and reconsider holding my stomach in again but I can't because I am officially whooped.
It is at this moment that I have my first near fatal accident with a young Latino boy on a bicycle riding dangerously with one hand on a bicycle barely big enough for a 3yr old and holding a 40 in the other. I woulda cursed him out but I couldn't breathe. No worries because I was immediately distracted by the remnants of the road kill that I had to jog pass because I was scared that if I walked someone may drive over it and spray some possum guts on me. What the hell am I doing running...that 2 sec. of high impact activity almost caused me to pass out?
But that didn't matter because lookie here what is that I see "The Beltway". At this point I can't even stress over the Beltway that is slowly approaching because I think I'm about to seriously pass out. Did you know that you can pass out from walking to long in fear of EVERYTHING? Whose bright idea was this?
I took off my hat to let the nappy hair get a little air. I can only imagine what I looked like with my stomach at this point in full expansion, my nappy hair revealed, staggering (because at this point I am deliriously dizzy holding my ass cheeks together because I'm sure the people behind me are sick of me fartin') I start to wobble and realize that walkin' straight has added more to my workout and have opted to just stagger. But wait I must straighten up because I'm about to enter the haunted forest of N.I.S.T.
Tell me why the fuck they are over that mug feedin' them car dentin over sized rodents. That shit looks like the Fuckin' Forest with all them damn Deer. It was too late to cross the street because of the Beltway traffic. I had to face my fear head on. So I walked under the Beltway comforted by the stench of fresh urine and graffiti about my mother. I wanted to grab a blanket and some newspaper and call this home until someone came to pick me up. I walked pass that dreaded Deer infested fence like I was in a video game. I know people were drivin' by goin' "why the hell is that girl walkin' like a fuckin' Robot"? I was scared to run cause I thought they might charge and I was scared to look because I may remind them of some black person that tried to shoot them once. So, what should have taken less than a minute took 5 of them.
I MADE IT, I MADE IT!!! I got pass the Deer. It was at that point that I did the smartest thing I've done all day. I called Becky and asked/demanded that she pick me up from the shopping center near her house. Why you ask? Why stop when I was less than 15 yards from my destination? That answer I leave to those of you that dare to take this journey yourselves.
For you see it was not the distance that was my oppressor. It was NATURE, FEAR and THE FREEDOM TO RIDE YOUR BIKE, DRINK AT THE BUS STOP AND THE STENCH OF MONT. CO that was victorious. I did however abstain from being sick on the side of the road, didn't get raped or murdered. You gage your victories by your measurements and I'll measure mine by my OCD.
But all was not lost. I rewarded my journey with a steak and cheese from Jerry's sub. There is at last balance in the universe.
Happy Trails,
The Delectable Adore
