Failures have a lasting impression. It is easier to dwell on our shortcomings than to persevere with a positivity that outshines the negativity. This is one of my biggest struggles – trying to find that balance, the place where I feel good about what I’m doing, specifically what I’m doing to stay in shape.

Recently, I’ve been really into watching body builders on YouTube. Do you ever find yourself just slowly spiraling into the depths of mindless entertainment? I could get lost for hours if not for the occasional ping from my phone or the sudden urge to relieve my miniscule bladder from the copious amounts of coffee I consume. The reason I mention my recent YouTube habits is because I realized that I have no idea what I’m doing when it comes to working out.

I walk into the gym and randomly pick a machine to start; generally, I go for the elliptical or the treadmill to get what little muscles I have warmed up. Then I usually meander over to the machines that I assume target my nonexistent ab muscles. After tiring myself out for a solid 15 minutes, I attempt to build upper body strength with the arm machines. I honestly couldn’t even identify any machine by name; I probably couldn’t even tell you what muscle group it targets. I am hopeless when it comes to gym terminology and workout methods.

Now, I know what you’re all thinking. Alex, why don’t you just watch tutorials on YouTube while you spiral down into hours of mindless entertainment? Then at least it may serve a purpose. Ladies and gents, I have tried. I’ve watched numerous men and women give extremely helpful tips and demonstrations in their tutorials; however, I am not the best at mimicking the exercises. You see, I am one of those learners who needs someone to physically show me how to complete a task and then guide me through my own attempts. I need hands-on instruction to grasp a specific workout routine or exercise. I’m certain I don’t even know how to properly use the machines I’m semi-familiar with.

I must look ridiculous at the gym; I can guarantee I look like that one individual in the back of a dance class who thinks she’s mastered the routine. She’s checking herself out in the abnormally large mirror, popping up here and there with her mediocre moves trying to get closer and closer to the front. She has that goofy smile plastered on her face, and you just happen to see her every now and again, flopping along to the beat of some garbage song that consists of migraine inducing electronic beats and what sounds like a drunk forty-year-old man talking under water. I’m the girl who acts like she knows what she’s doing at the gym, when in reality, I have no idea.

The only way I can describe myself at the gym is the lurker. I am that person who lurks around a machine to watch someone skilled in the art of working out use it properly. Then I confidently venture on over and begin setting the weight and height to match my petite physique. This is the moment when I realize I have a problem: I did not watch the previous person set the machine. Now I look like an imbecile because I have no idea how to adjust the machine. I kid you not, I refused to use the lat pulldown because I could not figure out how to adjust the seat; I’m short, and the person before me had height like the jolly green giant. It took me about a month to discover the secret to unlocking the seat and adjusting the height for my compact figure.

I have had many a failure when it comes to working out. I’ve been trying to keep a consistent routine for weeks now, and I haven’t cracked the code yet. I’m not giving up, though. Beach season is creeping up on me, and I’m not forgoing my dream of finally having a presentable physique this summer. It will happen whether I like it or not. I won’t let the negativity of my gym failures outshine the positivity I can find in the humorous accounts that grace the page. Eventually, I’ll find the balance – the happy medium that holds a workout routine specifically designed just for me. For now, I’ll settle for failed attempts than none at all … and coffee to ease the embarrassment, of course.