After our first experience at Wilson’s, we were eager to go back. But among homework, clubs, jobs and the desire for sleep, we were struggling to find any time in our busy schedules to actually work out. So when Election Day arrived, and school was out of session, we decided to go to Wilson’s. At 5 a.m.
Dragging ourselves out of bed at 4:30 a.m., we managed to make it out of our houses and into the Wilson’s Step Class. Twenty-some women were already in the room, setting up their step boxes, and we followed suit, trying to look like we knew what we were doing.
With lagging steps and bleary eyes, we couldn’t fathom how our instructor had so much enthusiasm this early in the morning. Starting right off with a step routine, the instructor was really good about explaining moves to new students (like us) and always offering higher and lower intensity steps. She gave us three different intensity levels, and we could choose which one we wanted to follow.
Though the steps at first seemed relatively do-able, the basic moves soon got the best of us. With 11 in the first ten minutes, the sweat began to drip. Within the next ten, our breathing got heavier. Halfway through, our thighs and calves were screaming in protest to every movement. We stepped, hopped and reached our way to the end of the hour-long workout, accompanied by moms and sixty-year-olds who were (to our horror) more in shape than us. By the end of the workout our legs were killing us. They felt like jelly on the walk back to the car. Eventually our panting faded away and the sweat dried, leaving us with an accomplished feeling and adrenaline pulsing through our veins. At 6:30 a.m.
This was by far the hardest class we’ve been to yet, but the most worth it as well.
So with dried sweat, messy buns and killer thighs, we sidestepped into the car, with one thing on our minds: sleep.
By Trisha Chaudhary
Dragging ourselves out of bed at 4:30 a.m., we managed to make it out of our houses and into the Wilson’s Step Class. Twenty-some women were already in the room, setting up their step boxes, and we followed suit, trying to look like we knew what we were doing.
With lagging steps and bleary eyes, we couldn’t fathom how our instructor had so much enthusiasm this early in the morning. Starting right off with a step routine, the instructor was really good about explaining moves to new students (like us) and always offering higher and lower intensity steps. She gave us three different intensity levels, and we could choose which one we wanted to follow.
Though the steps at first seemed relatively do-able, the basic moves soon got the best of us. With 11 in the first ten minutes, the sweat began to drip. Within the next ten, our breathing got heavier. Halfway through, our thighs and calves were screaming in protest to every movement. We stepped, hopped and reached our way to the end of the hour-long workout, accompanied by moms and sixty-year-olds who were (to our horror) more in shape than us. By the end of the workout our legs were killing us. They felt like jelly on the walk back to the car. Eventually our panting faded away and the sweat dried, leaving us with an accomplished feeling and adrenaline pulsing through our veins. At 6:30 a.m.
This was by far the hardest class we’ve been to yet, but the most worth it as well.
So with dried sweat, messy buns and killer thighs, we sidestepped into the car, with one thing on our minds: sleep.
By Trisha Chaudhary
Bruce Wayne • Nov 25, 2012 at 2:33 pm
never mind… i just clicked on the link… my bad! Sorry, the article is great 🙂
Bruce Wayne • Nov 25, 2012 at 2:32 pm
I love this article, but I’m just wondering- who is the “we”. I was distracted the whole time, you used that pronoun from the beginning without clarifying who “we” is. I thought perhaps this was written by two people, but no. It’s just one… so who is “we”?