Somehow, to me, work-out classes at the gym are always hilarious. Either I'm laughing at the instructor's choice of music, how clichéd I feel being a chick in a workout class, or just how inept I feel not knowing what's going on in Zumba. (Or just how much the well-bootily-endowed woman next to me likes to shake what her Momma gave her. It was like an industrial paint mixer, I swear.)
I figure the laughing makes for an extra good workout, right? Like, my abs are doing extra work, which is saying a lot, given the core-strengthening class I take on Thursday nights can really make you feel like you've been hit by a truck. Which is, I guess, what you're going for. The class? Is called "Hard Core". C'mon, say that and not giggle. I dare ya.
ANYWAY, this week's class just had to go and be all "extra difficult" for us gracefully-challenged folk. It involved one of those great big giant exercise balls. You know the kind. Let me illustrate for you:
drawrings. I don't mind.
Anyway, the instructor had us put together one of those step aerobic steps, with an extra "leg piece" on top. The pieces that make up the legs are these open square thingies, and putting one on top made a nice little nest for the great big giant exercise ball. Here, let me show you another angle:
|Hey - are you making fun of the way I drew crappy illustrations and then took|
crappy photographs of them?
One series of exercises we did with the great big giant exercise balls (heh heh) went a little something like this:
|See my swell pony tail? I look so happy!|
Step 1: Lie on your back with your butt just in front of your step. Bend your knees and grab the ball between your feet. Lift your head and shoulders off the floor. Try not to have flashbacks to being in labor, most certainly the last time you were anywhere near one of these great big giant bouncy balls.
|I know, I know. If I were really this skinny I wouldn't need the stupid class.|
|Really, I wasn't still smiling by this point. But I was too lazy to re-draw my head.|
|What? Your knees aren't disjointed like that?|
|I was definitely not smiling at this point.|
It is imperative at this step that you do NOT lose control of the ball or bring it down too quickly. For some odd reason, this sort of scene flashed through my mind:
|Those are WORRY LINES around my eyes and mouth. Like Charlie Brown.|
Now, this didn't actually happen to me (for a change), but you know darn well that I thought this out in my head, and while laughing about it, realized that out of the 15 or so people in the class that I was the only person to have grabbed a blue ball - everyone else had red - so that even if I had accidentally lost control of my great big giant exercise ball, everyone would have instantly known it was the giggly chick in the back who dun it.
Who's joining me for Zumba next week?