Tonight is hard-fast-sweaty zumba, and I've been sitting in a chair blowing my nose for a week. I'm afraid that all my muscles have turned to soup and that I now have the fitness of a banana slug. I'm afraid that I won't be able to keep up in class, and people will laugh and point, and I will cry a little. I'm afraid that exercising will hurt and . . . you know, pain.
But I'm not the kind of afraid that has me wanting to skip class. I'm the kind of afraid that's determined to go and face my dread and get it over with.
Because even if all the things I'm most afraid of happen, the only solution is to keep going to zumba class.