First of all, if you have a preschool aged child who wants to be just like you and spend
Secondly, I am sitting here with only 10% soreness in my back and with hardly any bursa joint pain in my hips. Why, you ask? No, I didn't swallow half a bottle of Ibuprofen (or wine). The reason that I feel close to my actual age as opposed to 84 is because my awesome friend told me about http://www.corepoweryoga.com/ and how they have a coupon for a free week. I heard the word "Free" and got pretty excited. (Unless you are from my tiny hometown, check out the website because they have studios in many cities.) She then invited me to attend a class with her today. I said "sure!". However, when I went to print my coupon, I realized the class was called "Power Sculpt", which sounded hard. Then I noticed something else. It immediately gave me anxiety and caused me to perspire. The room in which the power sculpting of my body (HA!) would be happening was heated to the evil temperature of 90-95 degrees. I can handle 90-95 when I am sitting in my lawn chair with an ice cold beer, but exercising in such heat constitutes cruel and unusual punishment in my book. So what did I do? I stressed about it and then I called my friend and told her to convince me, because I was feeling monumental amounts of anxiety. (...over doing YOGA- which is supposed to calm and center you...) She refused to be tough on me so I had to do it myself. I ended up persuading my own pathetic ass go to yoga class.
I must admit, the fact that it was a frigid 30 degrees outside and my hands were purple (doesn't every one's hands turn purple when they are cold? No? How about your lips? Do they? No? Oh, never mind.) made the extreme heat sound more tempting.
So I went to the fucking hot yoga class. I met two friends there, who are both in better shape than I. HEY! I just had a baby! 11 months ago.....
I handled the first 20 minutes or so as well as my old lady body could. Then I started to get fatigued. Then the heat started to wilt me. Then I started wondering when the class would end. Then the instructor kept saying "this is the last one!", but she meant the last of that particular position. Then she burned out your triceps and made you do 3 more triceps poses. Then she said to do that horrible pose where you balance on your tailbone (OUCH) and hold your legs straight out and up and lift your head and pump your arms. I guess it is called the full boat pose. I call it The DEVIL POSE.
This lady is demonstrating the proper pose. Photo swiped from Yoga Journal.
This is more what I looked like. I gave myself boobs and a flat stomach, because this is my damn blog and I wanted to.
|The darkness below my body is SWEAT, not a shadow.|
My hair was sweating. MY HAIR.
Then I knew what I had long suspected. I am seriously out of shape.
So I will use my free pass this week as much as my schedule will allow. By this time next week I will be transformed into a FREAKING YOGA GODDESS.
I'll also be taking the regular temperature classes for beginners, because the shade of red that is my face in a heated room is not natural for human skin and I think I was frightening people.
And then there are the subliminal messages that I have been receiving, like this one on my popcorn bag:
I call Bullshit!
If I were "not a winner", would my pantry look like THIS?????
I know! Total WINNER!