I promised those who friended me on Face book...and seriously, why wouldn't you friend me...this blog on Monday. I found that, given my age and weight class, I needed a couple days to recover before I could...sit up.
Monday night I went to a class at Gold's. It's called Body Vive. Dee was SUPPOSED TO BE TEACHING IT on Monday and the sheer force of guilt got me to the gym on a Monday.
Let's talk about the gym on Mondays.
Everyone on the planet goes to their gym on Mondays. They do this because 1) They destroyed themselves over the weekend; 2) They are going to destroy themselves during the upcoming weekend; 3) they feel tremendous guilt because their friend is teaching a class on Monday and they've been not going for weeks.
Getting into the building was a task. It took me five minutes to find a parking spot. I was starting feel that God was trying to tell me something. Once in the building, yoga mat in hand (in a fit of optimism I asked for a yoga mat for Christmas. It's been holding up my dump pile of sensible shoes in my closet for months.) it took me another five minutes to work my way through the crowds of weekend warriors to get to the locker room. Once in the locker room, I realized I was NOT going to find a locker easily. (Again, is there a divine message in this? I should have read more carefully.)
I battled through to where my friend Shayna was changing. I don't see Shayna that often, though we are huge Princess Bride fans, so I chit chatted for a moment with her and she nicely let me use the locker she was vacating.
Then I weighed myself. And let me just say...would the 7 year old child who weighs herself before me please put the scale back to zero? I'm tired of seeing it set to 102 and then I have to hoist it to the great weight beyond.
But the good news is I lost some serious poundage this week. Would it be enough to crush Conda? We'll see.
Now, weighed, watered and matted, I was ready to go back to the room where a mass of women were gathered. I had to collect a ball and a band (this is one of those classes that involves props...not a good sign for me.) I was excited because 1) I thought Dee was teaching the class and 2) I hadn't done the class in a few months...9...and I was eager to really get into it.
I even introduced myself to a couple of ladies who looked more lost than I was. They didn't know they needed a ball and a band. I felt cool.
That didn't last long.
The instructor...and we'll call her NOT-DEE...okay her name was Sarah and I'm telling you her real name because 1) I really liked her and 2) I feel have to counterbalance the bad name my name got when I used the real name of the jewelry hag at Kohl's last week.
|Low impact...with playground balls and rubber bands.|
That does not mean easy. As my favorite comic John Pinette would say, "nay, nay!" Low impact, according to NOT-DEE-SARAH, means we get low to the ground.
WE get low to the ground and we have mats. I smell NAP TIME!
But first...we dance!
Now, I'm looking around the room. I'm not the oldest, I'm not the heaviest, I'm not the most lost looking. (I do, however, have the ugliest pants...must get thinner so I look good in some yoga pants. Yes, I have to diet to buy fat clothes.) I was feeling good. I like dancing, I have a good sense of rhythm and very few inhibitions.
Until I started to move and realized that not only didn't I know any of the steps, keeping my focus on NOT-DEE-SARAH meant I wasn't listening to the beat. And since I couldn't hear what NDS was telling me, I also wasn't doing the right steps.
In short, I looked like a Rhinoceros trying to move gracefully in a small space.
At one point...and I'm not making this up...I stepped on my own foot. I stepped on my own foot so hard I cannot walk TWO DAYS LATER!
|Now this is a yoga class I could |
get in to!
This class is designed to work your core and shoulders and muscles and what not. It does. Believe me. My core is raging against me. Not as much as my right foot, which has officially gone on strike and is sending periodic fireballs of pain up my shin when I need to move in an upright manner, but it's raging. I like the class. I like NDS.
|At least I'm doing it...on Mondays. I'll need|
the week to recoup.
So, look who managed to lose some weight. Conda drops 7 this week. My weigh in, while encouraging, was not the 3.5 I'd hoped for. It was 3. BUT, it was also a shorter week, since I weighed in on Thursday last week. So I guess we call this one a draw. The good news is that I almost lost all the weight i managed to slap on myself last week, so I'm okay with it. And yes, I'm aware that Conda is basically losing every week and I'm not. Well, I'm still crushing her because I'm doing it without a TV show propping me up and giving me trips to Hawaii and oxygen every afternoon.
Look out Conda! I was close this week...next week, I'm crushing you!