Pride goes before a workout

A local facility recently ran a special. For less than $20 you could have unlimited access to a gym and exercise classes for a whole month, including bringing the kids to swim.

Swimming is magic when it comes to wearing kids out, and even if I only take them 4 times total, that’s less than $2.50 per kid, per swimming, which equates to at least 4 really good naps for me. That’s less than $5 per nap!

I’m exceptionally good at rationalizing things like that. Obviously also in desperate need of sleep.

Since there was a class that looked easy on the class calendar during my lunch break today I decided to try it out today. After all, it was included in the price.

I walked in and noticed the teacher looked to be 30ish years my senior. Mentally congratulating myself for my obviously younger physical condition I pulled out a mat for the Yoga/Pilates/something-or-another and joined in.

At 36, I’m the baby here. Piece of cake. A little less toned than the others, but younger. No problem.

The class started with familiar yoga positions. I’m not at all shabby, I thought to myself. I had taken a class very similar when I was pregnant with Caroline. You know, over 6 years ago. When I could sleep as much as I wanted.

5 minutes in, I noticed I was a little winded. Hmm. That’s odd.

15 minutes in, rivuels of sweat were making their way down my face. I pretended to not notice. The A/C must be broke in here or something.

20 minutes in I had to skip a few repetitions, while pretending to fix my shirt so I could catch my breath.

25 minutes (by now I’m watching the clock and not even hiding it) and I hear someone moaning while they breathe. I am shocked and horrified to realize that person is me.

30 minutes in, I skip some more stuff. The other ladies are carrying on not even looking ruffled.

35 minutes in I noticed my reflection in the mirror…it was obvious I was sweaty, red-faced and struggling. The teacher remained poised, elegant, relaxed and not at ALL sweaty.

40 minutes in I was praying I could just survive the last 5 minutes of class and NOT DIE.

45th minute, I collapsed on the mat. Panting, sweaty and in desperate need of a shower. But I survived!

The nice friendly class ladies welcomed me to the class and said things like “Please come back”. I might have grunted my response, because I was still catching my breath.

The teacher who STILL HAD NOT BROKEN A SWEAT graciously introduced herself and asked me to come back. I blurted out something like “I’ve got kids and a job and a husband and I don’t get to work out much but I used to be in shape a long time ago and yes I’d like very much to come back”

I’m betting I’ll be pretty sore tomorrow. I’m also a bit traumatized to realize just how out of shape I actually am.

Just a friendly warning…don’t be snooty. It will come back to bite you in your tender hindquarters.

Categories farm

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