Six years ago, I participated in my first BODYCOMBAT class as a student. Today, I’m an instructor in the process of mastering the latest release of class materials before presenting it to my students at launch week. As a former long-distance runner I could easily flee, but I don’t.

Why do I stay with the fight? I can’t always pinpoint the motivational factors that successfully define my fitness journey, but I can easily share the ones I struggle with.

Motivational Factor #1- an Active Lifestyle is HEALTHY!

Momentum means different things to different people. My approach towards physical activity is rooted in a compulsory vein that is not entirely dissimilar to someone who gropes for an open pack of Marlboro reds, covets a last biscotti within the three-second grace period of dropping it on the ground, or digs a finger into the brine of an unsealed jar of olives two months beyond the expiration date because salt preserves. And while we’re on the subject of food, why, if pressed for time, bother with a trip to the grocery store when there are perfectly good dregs of Greek yogurt and a handful of crushed rice crackers at home?

Motivational Factor #2 - I want to Age Gracefully and STAY YOUNG!

Some image standards exceed my grasp, like tricep definition that defies the laws of gravity and hair that looks “on fleek” when pulled back. Instead, I find myself defined by the following behaviors that put my midlife existence on full display:

Panting. The HIIT elements of BodyCombat (planks, burpees, mountain climbers, high-knee sprints, etc.) push the boundaries of strength and endurance to increase one’s level of fitness. I do my best to present like a warrior at all times, but sometimes I pant. As a rational-minded person I blame the gods of sarcopenia, but my ego persists nonetheless. It’s a fight. Seriously.

Wearing Gloves. All the cool kids ditched their gloves a long time ago. I still use them sometimes because they help my slightly arthritic fingers squeeze harder. I also enjoy making the occasional nod to eras bygone. The way I see it, wearing gloves should never fall out of favor. The same goes for top hats and waistcoats.

Jump Knees, Taking the Stairs, Stretching, and Other Examples of Abject Foolishness.

Q: What did the strained left meniscus say to the chondromalacic right patella?

A: You think you got problems, Yo?

Jump knees make me feel like a rock star. Stairs happen. So does stretching. While recently cooling down in child’s pose, I managed to strain a ligament that left my good knee temporarily crankier than my bad one. Ouf.

Motivational Factor #3 - I want to Be a Part of SOMETHING BIGGER!

BODYCOMBAT classes seemed like a perfect fit from the start because I’ve never been much of a joiner and tend towards the introspective. Fences have always been my neighbors, the air my immediate opponent. I was prepared for social niceties, yet hardly expected the transformative effects that engagement, connection, accountability and community would have on my autonomous perspective.

During my first few months of participation, the downtown Los Angeles class I attended was in the midst of transition. Several interim instructors came and went. I barely paid attention when one took over the class permanently, choosing instead to carry on with my dedicated ritual of raising my head intermittently and absorbing a few instructions.

One evening after class as I rushed to get home, I was vaguely aware of the new instructor saying hello as we passed each other in the space outside of the group fitness room. I was nearly out of earshot when I heard her say, “You’ve been taking my class for three weeks now, and you still walk past without speaking?”

And…crickets. Painful ones.

I was an overtaxed woman with a cubicle job. The majority of my life was spent living alone. My prior gym interactions had been limited to watching fitness videos. Surely there was no need for eye contact or incessant prattle, as that would be annoying. Did I have a bad attitude? Negative.

The world inside my head thought I had all matters of etiquette on lock, having been weaned on private school and corporate workplace environments, where emotional disengagement is often concealed by a careful veil of politeness. Hadn’t I signed up for grunting intermittently and absorbing a few instructions? I thought it was enough.

I slowly turned around to face my instructor. Her eyes were kind, sincere, and genuinely bemused by my actions. If I wanted to blow a bigger smokescreen, this would certainly be the time to do it. Was it worth the lie? Somehow, my veil of politeness had been stripped away and I was exposed: I was a complete and utter asshat who seriously needed to do better.

And so I did. I started with an apology.

“Please forgive me, Maricela. I had a rough day. I don’t get out much, but it’s no excuse for my crapass behavior. I’d like to try this again. Your class is amazing, you are appreciated, and I am genuinely grateful for all that you do. Thank you.”

Funny how the truth has a habit of pouring out once you look squarely it in the face.

And then what happened, you ask? Did I magically transform into an archangelic, Marvel-like specimen of otherworldly proportions with brilliant triceps, flawless updo and all, and live out the duration of my days with a heightened state of self-actualization and an empathetic sensibility that always kept me on the right side of social decency?

That would be a nope, but I did learn a few things:

Camaraderie is a gift. You can fight the air all you want but you will still need to engage, fence or no fence.

Decency is airborne. Gestures matter. Words do, too. Paths may differ, but relatability and common goals are ours for the sharing. Sometimes just getting through class is enough, other times we need a bit more. The smallest offerings of kindness and support go a long way towards building a solid foundation for accountability and growth:

• Nice to meet you!

• Will you be here tomorrow?

• See you on Tuesday.

• Where were you on Wednesday?

• On Thursday, I’m commuting from the Inland Empire and will be running a few minutes behind. Could you save my spot?

• On Friday night I plan on ditching class, seeing a band at the Fonda Theater, consuming copious amounts of craft beer and sliders, and dancing until my guts explode. Have a great weekend!

• I follow your example when I can’t see the instructor from the back row. Have you ever thought about getting certified and teaching class?

BODYCOMBAT seems less like an hour upon the figurative stage of life as I amble towards my final years and more of a curtain call to glory.

Long live the theater, and other collaborative arts. The erosion of the fourth wall and palpable triumph as the participants align in a figurative round. No one holds back in this magic circle. We cease to be perfect. We push through our limitations, doubts and anything that has ever had the power to make us feel unworthy or dead inside.

We come alive.

When this happens, I find myself happy alone - yet somehow connected in the midst of it all. It’s a phenomenon I’ve yet to fully understand. It’s a privilege for which I will always be grateful.