Can't. Move. My. Legs.

Ouch.

That about sums it up.

I’m SO sore. Like, ridiculously so.

(I can’t be THAT out of shape, can I???)

I feel a little bit better that when I was leaving the muscle class (alt class title: The Joke's On You If You Think You'll Be Walkin' Tomorrow), Melissa, the instructor, said to me, “You did a GREAT job for your first time! This was a tough class this week. I can tell you have a background in dance.”

Yes. WAY in the background. Like 2 decades ago.

On Sunday morning, my body must’ve been SO excited that it was going to exercise that it woke up at 6am. Just like that. Wide awake. And there was no falling back to sleep, either. I listened to the birds singing for a half hour and then got up.

There were 10 of us in the class, a rather impressive showing for early on Sunday morning. I was the second to youngest attendee (no surprise there). Most of the women were in their 40’s.

A few women were making small talk and doing little stretches to warm up. One woman was stretching and limbering up like she was about to take the stage as Clara in a production of The Nutcracker.

About 15 minutes into class I knew I was going to be in trouble. I was able to keep up the whole time (I have amazing balance; I had no trouble standing on one leg for 100 counts doing the exercises), but I was pushing my muscles (many of which had been strangers to the barre for 16 years).

We worked everything: glutes, inner and outer thighs, calves, obliques, abdominals, hamstrings. Even the muscles in our feet (??!!).

It was the longest hour of my life. I started to feel the pain of my future on the way home.

I couldn’t even take Vito on a walk yesterday, despite how beautiful it was outside, because I just imagined myself getting halfway around the neighborhood and my legs just collapsing in fatigue. Vito is a little small to cart my body home on his back.

It hurts to sit, stand, move, stay still, walk, drive, bend, straighten up, sneeze, brush my teeth (because I walk around while do so) and put on shoes.

However – despite bouts of nausea and almost throwing up 4 times during class – I think I will go back.

That is, if I’m able to maneuver stairs by Wednesday.

(Now I understand why there’s a RAMP into her studio!)