Jungle of Testosterone

My mettle has recently been tested by my forays into the Physical Education portion of our otherwise beautiful campus. Joel and I have decided that my newest attempt at physical activity to combat my happily sedentary lifestyle should involve the climbing gym here at school. Unfortunately for me, Joel is actually making me stick to it through a variety of taunts and encouragements. This means that on Wednesdays (probably other days of the week, too, as I have discovered they are open other times as well) I must sojourn into that wasteland of health and wellness: the sports complex. I am subjected to football players just getting out of practice, their finely-honed bodies shining with sweat as they strut like teenage chickens back to their cars. Then there are the lanky climbers and runners who glide like well-oiled machines past me, not to mention all the horrifyingly toned women who seem to glance at me in immediate dismissal, probably because I have a bit of a panzita. I feel like a meatball in a bowl full of spaghetti, or perhaps a jiggle of lard next to a lump of lean beef. And so I arrive, the only girl I have seen so far at the gym, to make an utter fool out of myself as I try to spider crawl across the wall since I can't vertical climb too much, due to the lack of a climbing partner. Dylan, the climbing wall guy, says I'll get the hang of it eventually, having watched my pitiful attempts to cling to the wall two feet above the ground. Climbing uses a whole different set of muscles than violin playing ( have you seen my mad elbow muscle?) and believe me, last week, I hurt! But, thanks in large part to the verbal abuse I receive when I call aforementioned Joel to try and whine my way out of climbing, I have gone two times now, and, having paid ten bucks for the rest of the term (ten bucks!!! What a deal!!!) will probably continue to do so. I may not become one of those beautifully cut football players (have I ever mentioned that I have an instant physical reaction to them.... of revulsion? I think it must be left over from high school.) or a lean, lanky runner (*shrieks of laughter* Lean? Lanky? Me????), but perhaps I might manage to leave school with a little less than I came with.