Stretchy Me

get movingI forced myself off of the couch this morning.  For weeks, I've sat there….doing a lot of nothing besides wishing I had the motivation to MAKE SOMETHING FUN happen in my life and watching Kathie Lee & Hoda drink way too early in the morning.  Just keepin' it real.

I looked up the fitness class schedule on the church website (Trader's Point) and wouldn't you know, if I hurried….I could make the 10:30am Stretch Class.  I debated going (with myself) because no one is as good as me when it comes to talking myself out of something.  But alas, I brushed my teeth and tore my closet apart searching for some sort of "work out" clothes.  Just so you know, I don't really own anything worthy of calling it work-out gear.  So, I wore sweats and an old Colts t-shirt of my son's.  On a positive?  My tennis shoes and socks were new — so, looking good in the feet region while the rest of me appeared plenty haggard & worn was my only choice.

Leaving a grand memory of a first impression.  It might be my new specialty.  (remember crying when I met the new neighbor?)

I walked in late because the lady at the information desk sent me to the wrong gym and I had to hustle up a flight or more of stairs to finally find the right location.  You know what that means, right?  All of the 7 nicely acquainted ladies turned to see me enter (huffin & puffin) and only one of them had the graciousness to smile and sort of welcome me in.  I grabbed a mat and joined ranks AT THE BACK OF THE CLASS!  Cause, Hello….new girl, way out of shape and guaranteed NOT A SINGLE BIT OF STRETCH left in my muscles had no intentions of being watched by strangers who've been stretching together, forever!

I got this!

The class leader mentioned she was pregnant with her 4th baby before we began the torture routine.  She seemed pretty normal (not huge and obvious like I was preggo) and so I congratulated myself mentally on picking the perfect class for my lame out of shapeness.  This should be a piece of cake!  Mmm, cake.  Sorry.  Nothing makes you want to do bad stuff like doing good stuff does, right?  Anyway, I judged her.  I thought in my tiny brain, "Oh well, this class oughta get me going!  I needed a beginner course in getting this old body into shape!".  Then, she started.

I couldn't get my legs to go anywhere near where she had hers.  I tried everything (beyond snapping some important muscles) to stretch my body into those positions.  It hurt!  It hurt so bad, I wanted to cry!  I started praying to God.  "Lord, please don't let me embarrass us both here!".  This hurts, everywhere.  How is she doing that?  Then, it got real!  Girlfriend jumped up and grabbed a bag of popcorn out of her bag!  She opened it (while explaining the next death twist move) and started eating!  She ate, stretched, held it and popped more into her mouth as she dropped some and caught it while mid-stretch!

I feel she was taunting me.  I think I hate her.

This went on for days hours too long!  I have never in my whole life seen anyone move like she did.  She was pretty much….pregnant jello!  It's probably not good to have such evil thoughts while hanging out at church, huh?  But, she forced me into pure envy!  After class, I intoduced myself to butter body and she was as nice as she was limber.  I confessed to her that my dried up, frazzled and barely there muscles were crying and begging me to make it stop….and she laughed!

I liked her!  And I can't wait to go back!  And get really good at STRETCH class!  It felt amazing, in a weird painful killer kinda way!

 

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