Friday, May 30, 2008

Sidling Up To The Bar(re)

I’m going to take an exercise class.

(If you are not wearing your shocked face right now, you should go find it and put it on.)

It’s called “Be Some Balanced Body”. The description reads as follows:

“Please reserve your spot at the barre at 8:30am - Be Some Balanced BODY! for a very demanding muscle class that will lengthen and elongate your muscles and REALLY TONE like no other class CAN! Create a shapely, brilliant body with this special class!”

(Yes, it’s at 8:30am on Sunday. Yes, that’s too early to exercise. Yes, I might be crazy.)

((However, the idea of lengthening and elongating muscles is rather intriguing. Any chance I will be a few inches taller on Monday??))

Now, a long time ago (read: my twenties), I used to work out all the time. I always belonged to a gym, and I actually went. When I lived in Boston I would go to the gym every morning, then shower and hop on the bus to work (horrific stories about the Y's openness around adult female nudity in the locker room to be posted at a later date). I did this every day. I was in amazing shape; my muscles had definition and back fat was just a myth I read about.

Right.

So anyway, you may remember that I took a pilates class at the local high school. Ever since then I must receive 2-3 emails a week from the instructor about classes at her studio. I usually delete these emails.

But for some reason – not fitting into my summer clothes? knowing the impending doom of bathing suit season is upon me? realizing “I’d rather eat hashbrowns” is not a better way to spend my time? – I feel like I need to go.

Maybe RSVPing to the class is just the motivation I need to start doing something. Like, my name is on a list and someone is waiting for me. I am expected to be there. If I’m not there, I will let someone down. (btw, every time I choose to NOT exercise, I am never as disappointed in myself as I should be.)

That being said, here's what I think will go down:

Projection #1: Even though I am up before the chickens every other day of my frickin’ life (especially weekends!), Sunday morning is the day that my body will want to sleep until 10:30.

Projection #2: I will actually like the class. Being at the barre again will bring back my 13 years of ballet. No doubt I will catch on quickly and out-plié everyone else in the class (which will probably only be like 4 people; I mean, come on! It’s 8:30 on a Sunday morning!!!)

Projection #3: I will need assistance walking (and putting on my shoes/and going up the stairs/and breathing) on Monday.

1 comment:

Lori said...

OH, no no no! Sunday is a day for refining one's Sofa Slug skills! Perhaps drinking too much wine, then sneaking into the hubby's JD bottle. (OK, not so much of that nowadays) Nap, watch NASCAR, lay by the pool, have hot and sweaty sex (which is the only "exercise" that I find acceptable regardless of the day of the week)... but exercise on a Sunday morning? If you go, you deserve intervention by the Universe and to be immediately transformed to your perfect weight and build!
LW
www.fermentedfur.com

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