It's one of those things that you hate as soon as your alarm goes off and then love as soon as you start. I am NOT a morning person, and I knew that having a 7:45 class would be a stretch for me.
My alarm goes off at 7 and I nearly fall off my bunk bed in the attempt to reach the floor without waking my roommate. One of these days I'm gonna miss the ladder completely and just peg the ground with my face. I'll let you know when that day comes. Once my toes touch the scratchy purple carpet, I dig blindly through my clothes until I find my swimsuit and stumble into our happy yellow bathroom. Once I'm clad in my swimsuit, yoga pants, and sweatshirt, with my towel slung over my shoulder, I slump to the kitchen and eat something. Usually I don't really care what I eat; this morning I ate some tortilla chips. Then I begin the journey to the Hart building. Rexburg is generally cold this time of year, but it is ESPECIALLY frigid at 7:30 in the a.m. I've already decided that I'm gonna sled to class as soon as there's snow on the ground.
Walking into the Hart building is similar to walking into a meat packaging factory, or Savers. The smell of sweat and cleaning supplies and chlorine all hit you at once and you feel strangely at home. At least I feel that way... anyway. I reach the pool and jump in as quickly as possible, because usually my legs aren't shaved. It's not that I'm embarrassed about it, I just don't want anyone to avoid me once they jump into the water, too. I've gotta make friends somehow, and my furry legs are not going to get me anywhere. Warming up for class is probably the most awkward part of my day. Everyone is going in different directions trying not to run into each other. And yet, we always somehow poke each other in the face or kick each other's thighs and slap each other's arms. Eventually we'll get it down, but for now, I just grin awkwardly and keep on jogging through the churning water.
The class itself is actually a blast! I always get excited when our adorable pregnant instructor tells us to grab a kickboard or water weights. She stands in front of us and demonstrates the moves out of the water, making me feel like an absolute idiot IN the water, because she makes it look so easy. I do enjoy the challenge, though. Oh, and the classic rock. I enjoy that, too.
What I DON'T enjoy, is the walk back to my apartment.
If you're one of those people that looks perfect after swimming or working out, I hate you. I always climb out of that pool with little curly hairs all over my head, a splotchy complexion, and goosebumps. I awkwardly pull my swimsuit off under my towel and pull my clothes on, trying not to flash the whole locker room as I do so. I ascend the stairs, step into the crisp Rexburg air, and BAM. EVERY ATTRACTIVE MALE IN IDAHO IS ON CAMPUS. And of course I look awful. I pull out my phone and start Tweeting my discomfort at all of the beautiful men surrounding me. My wet bun flops from side to side and I can feel the hair on my legs grow longer. I suddenly become aware that there's probably something in my teeth, my breath is wretched, and my shoes are dorky. WHY ME. I just want to curl up in a ball in the middle of the sidewalk and wait for all of the Idaho Gods to go to class. But it's also freezing. So the torture continues. They fly by on bicycles, strut next to me in their suits and ties, and smile at me with perfect teeth. I usually want to smile back, but NO. There's probably something in my teeth and it's probably green and large and growing bacteria (I brush my teeth, I promise). And of course, I have to walk past two men's housing complexes before I get to mine. The torture. Once inside my own complex, I pick at my teeth to confirm my suspicions of bacteria growth and tug at the wedgie that I've had since I left the locker room. Walking into my apartment, I sigh and drop my things and ascend the ladder to my bed. I really should shower and shave, because those men are still out there somewhere, but suddenly, I don't even care. Where all of the self-conscious thoughts went, I do not know. I know they'll be back when I step out of water aerobics again in 2 days, but that's in 2 days. Right? And maybe all of the beautiful men will disappear!
I should shave.