Oh, and one last thing: you SUCK. I want to punch you in the face.
See ya next week!
The seal-like human flopping gamely around in the 2nd to last row. Well, the one wearing the purple top, that is.
Yes, folks, after many months of doing no more exercise than leisurely walking (to my car) and raising the TV remote, I decided that today would be a great day to hit the gym with a vengeance. Truth be told, I decided that last week was a great time to go back to the gym, but... let's just say that my gym bag decided to just take a nice ride in the car for a few days instead. I think it really enjoyed itself, and I gave myself points for even getting it packed up and into the car. Go, me!
I honestly thought about walking out of the class when I noticed that we'd only been crunching and reaching and balancing on our butt bones for 30 minutes and I was already sore and sweaty. When she started with the "planks," which are like Jack Palance one-armed army push-ups, I came close to blurting out, "Oh HELL NO," and slinking out the door. However, being in an all-mirrored room reminds you of why you are there in the first place, so I stuck with it.
I am happy to report that I made it through the entire class without crying.
Later, in the locker room, I attempted to collect my belongings and slither out the door before the stiffness overtook my limbs, but the (bitch slut whore!) instructor held court and said that we'd all start seeing "real body results in just 30 classes." THIRTY FUCKING CLASSES? 3-0? Goddamn it, woman! Lie to me and tell me it's three weeks to a hard body! Since I'm only planning on going to class once a week, that's a really long time to wait for results! Sonofa....
Anyway, now that the gym staff knows I'm not dead, I will try to go a few times a week. But I've said this before, and we all know how that worked out. I'll keep ya posted, though if I never mention the gym again, you'll know I've fallen off the wagon and am presently stuffing myself with wine and chips & salsa while watching Project Runway and criticizing those heifers they call models. That is exactly how I waddle.