HIIT me baby one less time

Exactly one year ago today I was crouched onto my knees, gulping in big breaths of air, and trying to keep calm. All because of some guy I never met. So it makes perfect sense that this afternoon I was...well...crouched onto my knees, gulping in big breaths of air, and trying to keep calm. Except this time, it was because of a chick. A chick that I see several times a week when I attend her classes, and who will call me out by name depending on what I'm doing, or, as is often the case, what I'm cracking up over. I didn't purposely plan to go to HIIT (High Intensity Interval Training) on the 1 year anniversary, it just sort of happened. One week I'm joking around with some of the HIIT attendees about how I just keep "missing" the class. Next thing I know I'm doing a bunch of burpees... But in order to understand HIIT, let me go back to when I first started doing Cardio Sculpt because they're sort of similar (I call Cardio Sculpt 'Baby HIIT').

  As I mentioned in the previous post, I took a class called Cardio Sculpt.To save you the trouble of re-reading that post, I'll re-explain what that is. Cardio Sculpt is a class that consists of multiple stations that you go through three minutes at a time. Three minutes of mountain climbing, three minutes of lifting a kettleball, three minutes of lunging, three minutes of running around the back parking lot, etc. Each week it changes and we focus on different parts of the body. The first time I tried Cardio Sculpt, it was very ab/arm intensive and I would whimper in pain every time I laughed or picked something up. The second time I did Cardio Sculpt, I did lunges across the room while carrying a 12-lb weight in my arms. My legs were still throbbing when I went to Zumba two days later, making it extremely difficult for me to drop it like it's hot (and I absolutely hate not doing my best in Zumba). But I actually really love Cardio Sculpt. I love the quick pace, the change of exercises, and most importantly, the community of people that attend the class.

 I really want to emphasize here the significance of my gym community. Many people, much like I used to, often think of the gym as a kind of fish bowl in which you're stared at or judged. I cannot emphasize enough that this truly is not the case, or at least it hasn't for me, and I've got plenty to be insecure about. When I was determined to be an actual member of the gym (rather than a donor), I didn't want to be just another face. As any of my instructors or classmates will tell you, I make myself known in the classes; not because I'm super vain but because I'm relational by nature. When I'm in class and I'm sweaty, exhausted, or frustrated, I vocalize it and hope to God that someone near me is feeling the same way. Luckily, they usually are (especially in Chrissy's classes), and we all bond over our temporary misery. Over the past eight months of classes, I've formed a friendship with a lot of the people who are regular attenders. We vent, we laugh, we talk about our bad eating days, but mainly we're a kind of support system. Case in point: on my second day of Cardio Sculpt I had to wheelbarrow myself across the room and back. Instead of someone holding my legs up (as is the 3rd grade, Field Day version of the wheelbarrow relay), each of my feet were on a plastic plate. I had to use my own weight to propel myself forward as my feet swayed back and forth behind me. I face planted about ten times or so, but each time I did someone would call out to me from their station and say, "Come on, Ang" or "You got this, Angie" or "You're almost there, you can do it". I kept face planting but I also kept getting back up, albeit temporarily. I can't even begin to tell you what that experience meant to me. Honestly, those three minutes of hellish wheelbarrowing pretty much sum up this past year for me. It's been difficult, painful, and I've definitely had my setbacks; but I've also gained this group of people who continue to root me on, time and time again.

My gym community is a huge part of why I decided to do HIIT today. Not that this decision didn't come without anxiety. Last night, for instance, I woke up at 3 in the morning after having a nightmare about being out of breath after doing an hour of burpees. *By the way, when I reference burpees, I'm not talking about packets of seeds for gardening. I'm talking about jumping up and then transitioning quickly to a push up before jumping back up again, and then doing this about a dozen times (or, you know, like 4ish in my case). When I first heard of burpees, I kept thinking of happy little flowers or obese watermelons. Let me assure you that in the HIITy language, there's nothing happy, little, or floral about a burpee... Anyway, I digress. I had a nightmare about doing HIIT. It's not because of my instructor, Chrissy, though. After 8 months of taking her classes, there's a comforting familiarity about Chrissy's yelling, crackly singing, and light speed movements. In every one of her classes you'll find people shaking their heads at her crazy energy, but you'll also find the same twenty people coming back, class after class. My primary concern with taking HIIT was because of its description on the Jersey Fitness website:

"High Intensity Interval Training- Is hands down one of the best ways to burn fat without causing your body to break down your own muscle tissue!" (Intermediate/Advanced)

Translation: "High Intensity Interval Training- It's like Cardio Sculpt, but on crack (Fatties Beware)"

I would see these ridiculously fit people come out of HIIT class drenched in sweat and looking as though they just got knocked over the head with dumbbells. I would joke with my friend Jessie about a single square inch of her shirt that wasn't drenched in sweat, saying, "Light class? Chrissy wasn't feeling well?" But all that said, the skinny girl lurking somewhere inside of me was curious about the class. So I told Jessie I'd give it a go. And then spent a whole week repenting this decision. Whenever I'd ask anyone about HIIT they'd all tell me the same exact thing "Just do what you can". Do what I can? Well, this much is true: I can bolt for the exit. Despite my anxiety, Tuesday came and I made sure to hydrate and eat well throughout the day. About an hour before the class I even drank my very first Red Bull. I know that I will probably never be as fast as Chrissy, but for my very first HIIT class I felt like I needed some form of chemical substance swimming around my brain instructing my body, "Go!" "Go!" "Keep breathing!" "Keep jumping!"

HIIT was like Cardio Sculpt in that it was quick spurts of activity. Hopping on and off the platform, burpees, push ups, jumping jacks, squats, lunges, fast lunges, etc. If you were to take a five minute breather, you'd miss about 60 different sets of exercises. Chrissy would call out various numbers of each exercise but I'm going to be perfectly frank: I maybe did 1/4 of whatever number she yelled out. I know that I should have kept pushing myself to do more and to go harder and faster, but my lungs and knees made more compelling arguments. I did what I could but I know (and Chrissy probably knows) that I am capable of more. That's not the point of the first class, though. The first class is a point of reference for the future, fitter you so that some day you'll look back and think, "My God, remember my first HIIT class? I was a hot mess.." And I was a hot mess. I was sloppy, I gave up too easily, and I didn't push myself enough. I was not happy with my performance, but the point is that I tried, I stayed for the whole hour, and I didn't give in to the fear. That's a heck of a lot more than I can say for the sad sack from last September 11th.

When it was all over, Chrissy said "Good job, Ang" and everyone exhaustedly clapped for me and my first HIIT class. To be honest I don't think I did anything applause-worthy. But again, that's not the point. These people that make up my gym community know where I was a year ago, too. And I love them for it. It's funny because this week I'm going to Arizona and I had the following conversation with my Dad:

Me: Dad, where we're staying, is there a-?
Dad: Gym? Yes. They might even have a Zumba class, too
Me (scoffs): No, it wouldn't be the same
Dad: You know, there are other gym classes. Some may even have instructors even crazier than Chrissy.
Me: I doubt that. Plus, it wouldn't be the same. My people wouldn't be there.
Dad: And they're family?
Me: Yes, actually. They are a family to me.

Casualties of HIIT class

So I dedicate this post to my (gym) family. When I am struggling, and frustrated, and pissed off with myself, you take the time to encourage me, over and over again. Which makes every class feel like this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ds7ePMtz9m8&feature=fvwrel





And to any potential, yet hesitant, HIIT attendees I will say that while it's definitely the most challenging class I've taken at the gym, it is not impossible. You push through it, accepting that you won't be the fastest or the most agile, and take comfort in knowing that you're definitely burning something (if not calories, then definitely your hamstrings). And if this fatty can do it, so can you. And when you do, I'll clap for you and feel compelled to reward you with food (old habits die hard).