Monday, June 6, 2011

Monday June 6,2011

The art of exercise

In the early eighties, I had the joy of working out with Richard simmons. He came out with an exercise album(to be played on my ultra cool stereo)entitled Reach(I think that was the title...the record is still with the rest of my precious collection safe and sound within the confines of my white Formica bedroom set from rooms plus, god rest its retail soul)anyway, in those days, you couldn't see what he was doing(which is probably a good thing) but he would describe the exercises to you and you were able to follow along, more or less.

Then there was the Jane Fonda be played on your ultra modern video tape machine. I liked that workout mainly because I would put it in the machine, my mom would think chubby banji was partaking in some sort of physical activity that didn't involve climbing up on a kitchen chair to see what baked goods were being hidden from her, and then, with my mom safe upstairs, I would take a nap on the couch. It was win-win.

Over the years I have been to many gyms and have taken many different classes( no, really, I have, but thanks for playing into my low self esteem)I have always prided myself on being the fat chick who could keep up with the teacher. But, I'm sorry to report, that all of that changed today. My friend and I went back to the scene of the aquasize fiasco to try a "step II" class. There was no "step I" class being offered and since I hadn't taken a step class since the 90's, I figured how bad could it be.

It was bad. I think the teacher was on speed or maybe she wasn't a real teacher, but some sort of avatar that someone was pressing fast forward on because she was doing things on and off the step at the speed of light and I thought I was moving in slow motion, backwards,
with my feet in thick mud. It was the twilight zone of step classes and I was laughing so hard I thought I would pee my pants.

We left the class and went down to the front desk to ask why the class was so complicated and why there was no beginners version and the lady said "oh, the classes here are very difficult." and all I wanted to say was, " Excuse me, but I was a member of THE GYM, where the most elite malnourished women in Bergen county spend their days burning calories that they dont consume and I kept up with them just fine...your gym sucks." but, I didn't. My friend and I did the treadmill and will have fond memories of the establishment that we will not be joining,

Happy monday

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