So I’m taking step aerobics class. I admit it freely—I am a white girl with no rhythm. The leader is also a dance instructor. She’s a middle aged woman who steps and jumps and stretches and in general moves so gracefully. I’ve been there four times. I still flounder around like a dying fish. I watch the leader intently—she steps with her left leg—I see it, I comprehend it I know I should be doing the same thing—instead my right leg tries to imitate the movement (and does so quite poorly .)

I stop, I start again, “on the beat, one-two-three-dang off again!” Half a step off and doing everything backwards, I feel I must be the bane of this poor woman’s step aerobic career.
I’m pretty sure I’m going to fall off the step pretty soon.

The workout mat they handed me this week had the work “HELP” scratched onto the surface.
I feel the pain man. I feel the pain.