For the past couple of months, I’ve been going to a weekly circuits class. It’s a very no-frills, pay-as-you go class in a local leisure centre and I love it. That said, while the class is happening, I’ll often dispute the fact that I’m enjoying it. There’s a really diverse mix of people in the class: men and women from different backgrounds and with different body types.
When I first went, I was nervous about what I would encounter. I’m pretty fit from running, and I know the moves, but I’m not that strong when it comes to picking up heavy objects and I’m definitely not fast if asked to pick something up repeatedly.
It felt like everyone else in the class had been going for ever; they all chatted at the start and I began to worry that I was out of place. The instructor explained what the circuit was, demonstrated all the moves and then turned up the music and we began. There was no time to worry about the light weight of the dumbbells I was picking up compared to the guy next to me whose biceps were as big as my thighs. I was concentrating too hard on what I was doing to worry about anyone else. After a while, I started to realise that everyone else was doing the same. They were focussing on their own moves and not noticing me.
As the weeks have gone on and I’ve chatted to people, I’ve realised that we all have different bits of the class that we struggle with, and others that we breeze through by comparison. While I can’t deadlift anything near the weight that some of the bigger guys in the class are picking up, to me the shuttle runs are a chance to catch my breath and relax. I’ll forever do push-ups on my knees, but when it comes to jumping onto a box, I’ll always choose the bigger one.
Strength and fitness doesn’t look just one way – in terms of what our bodies look like and how we’re performing. In running, our strengths and weaknes
