Class is in Session
Sorry for the late and what will surely be a brief post. Not that I don’t have brilliant, creative ideas flying through my head…it’s more like my body that’s the problem. As I noticed that spring time was going to have summer on its linen coattails, I hit up the gym Monday night. Not only did I hit it up, I managed to muster up enough motivation to fight through dime sized rain drops to get there.
In a mental trick pulled on yours truly, by yours truly I said that I was only going to go if there was a class I could take that started at 7:30. Well of course, after grabbing the class schedule off the refrigerator I knew it was meant to be. Once I arrived at the house of pain, I made my way to studio 2 to participate in “Ripped.” After all, who doesn’t want to be “Ripped?”
As the previous class started to filter out, my future classmates started to walk in and get set up. I say set up, because it seemed as though every other person in the class was a veteran of “Ripped.” They were all setting up shop in their own little area. They each grabbed a few sets of dumbbells, a straight bar and a “step.” So of course, I started to do the same. After all, I didn’t want everyone to know I was the “new kid.” Although that would surely become crystal clear as the high paced, heart pumping music started.
Our instructor was, as I’m sure most are, a very toned, perky, woman dressed in all stretchy cloths. We started jogging in place and then around the room in a circle. It looked like an adult version of Duck, Duck, Goose. While almost at the point of dizziness I noticed that I was in fact the only guy in the entire class. I was the only one not wearing a sports bra, I was sure of that…
No worries though, I’m in decent shape. It’s only been a few weeks since my last trip to the house that Hanz and Franz built. And after all, the heaviest dumbbells in the room were mine, at a robust 10lbs a piece. There was more jogging, following by some curling, and then some more jogging and some more curling. I think you get the point.
The sweat was pouring off my face and I could only at this point try to figure out how or why these weights that were clearly marked 10lbs weighted at least 1000lbs. The instructor was again, cheerful and positive as she counted off…10, 9, 8, 8, 8…”wait a minute, she’s been on 8 for like 10 minutes now. Is she trying to kill me?”
That muscle pain in my arms and chest was only soon replaced by the pain in my ass and legs. In what was a compromising position for all, especially me being the only guy in the class. We were down on all fours, lifting one leg at a time, almost like dog would pee on a fire hydrant. The leg would go up and then out, and then back as there was only the sound of yet another 10 count that seemed to last an eternity bellowing through the studio. As there were women all around and even more mirrors, I made sure I kept my nose to the mat during these drills. After all, I don’t want to be the creepy guy in “Ripped” who stares.
Two days later I don’t know if I’m “Ripped” but it certainly feels like something’s torn…I think it’s my rotator cuff.
Thanks for listening