I rolled in on two wheels, completely oblivious as to how long it would actually take me to arrive to the gym. At this time I'm normally curled up on the couch with the dog drinking my morning fuel of an ice cold Coca-Cola, and I wasn't sure what to expect.
When I walked in I saw a lot of perky pony tails. Don't get me wrong, I had a pony tail too, but my pony tail looked sort of sad and apprehensive and a bit frizzy. The pony tails surrounding me were sleek and confident. These ponytails could do non-knee push-ups.
As the class started, I knew I was in trouble when I was extremely winded during the "warm-up." There is no bigger lie then the words "warm up." Truth be told, I have never in my life attended ANY class, of ANY type, in ANY state where I wasn't completely ready to go home after the warm up. And not only go home after that, but feel accomplished.
Well, halfway through the workout, they did this exercise where you jump in the air like you are extremely excited. Of course there is always the modified version, or what I would prefer to call, the exercise for people who do not, in fact, feel like they have just won the lottery.
I tended to stick with that on more than one occasion.
In this particular gym class, like most, the entire wall you face is a big mirror.
I looked at my legs in this mirror and two words unexpectedly popped into my mind...
Normally, I would think that the image I was seeing was skewed in some way.
Sort of like when you see your reflection in store mirrors and your legs look shorter and stubbier than they really are. However, to my knowledge, there has yet to be a mirror invented which makes me look like Petunia while making everyone else look like Beyoncé, so there goes that theory.
And let me be clear. This class was ONLY THIRTY MINUTES.
Not sure why, but I just needed you to know that.
As the class drew to a close, we ended with *several* rounds of burpees.
Yes, the words -*several* and *burpees* in the same sentence. The most hated exercise in existence. I can't even tell you how many I managed to knock out. I just wanted out of there.
I was supposed to stay and do a Body Pump class, but since I want to live to see my grandchildren someday, I told my friends adios, I would see them tomorrow (this may be a blatant lie), and slunk to my car...or so I thought.
Yes, I was so out of sorts I walked to the wrong car. Luckily, I corrected myself before I physically tried to get in it. However, once I was sitting in my car, I began to felt that lump you get in your throat right before you throw up.
I proceeded to call my mom, because even in your 40s, that's what you always want to do when you feel sick. Unfortunately while talking to her, I burped very loudly in her ear, but began to feel better.
And do not think that the irony of burping after burpees escapes me.
Truth be told, I am typing this right now on my phone in the gym parking lot. I'm still getting my bearings. In the same vein as the people with the half marathon stickers on their vehicles, 13.1, there may need to be a new sticker.
"Past the warmup"
I would exhibit it proudly today.