Tuesday, June 07, 2005

My Ass is Kicked

I notice that I'm not the only one blogging sporadically lately. Maybe it's the summer heat?

Once again, stuck without a good workout DVD, I slacked off on my basement elliptical routine. I decided that I needed more motivation, so I signed up for an weekly hour-long class called "Hot Mamas in Training." Today was the first class. Oh, boy. First, the weather. It was 86 degrees in the shade - plus humidity! - at 9:15 am.

Second, the company. There were about a dozen Hot Mamas there, plus a couple of leaders. There was one other mama with a slightly flabby ass. She was also the only other one in a t-shirt, though hers was cute and fitted and she wore it well, while mine is a size 2XL plain white tent, just the way I like it. All the other Hot Mamas, who well-deserve that title, wore cute little workout tanks. They also had larger loads. Many women had double strollers. One woman had a double stroller plus a newborn in a Bjorn on her chest.

Third was the workout itself. There are two levels of Hot Mamas in Training, and I chose the lower level (Level I). The routine is a "brisk walk" for 5 minutes (I had to jog to keep up) followed by a "break" to do jumping jacks, push ups, resistance work, etc. After two jog/jumping jacks cycles, I thought I was going to die. I was already lagging behind a little. "OK, Ladies, let's do some stretches then get this class started!" the leader said with enthusiasm. I nearly fell over.

At one point, the leader of the Level II class ("much harder!" they assured us) dropped back to check on me. "So, how did you hear about Hot Mamas in Training?" she asked. Pant pant. After 30 minutes of this fun, my feet burning like someone had inserted red-hot coals under my skin (damn planter fasciitis), shortly after successfully completing 25 push-ups with my hands and knees in dog urine and goose poop, I veered off for the parking lot. Done.

I have until next week to decide if I want a refund or to continue subjecting myself to this humiliation. I think I will probably choose continuing the humiliation. I will be a case study for the other women: "Do Not Let Yourselves Go!"

9 comments:

trisha said...

Screw feeling humiliated. Work out for you.Or work our for the millions of women too chicken to even show up. We need to show those damned halter-top-wearing women we count, too! We will not be stopped!

Or, something.

Princess of Everything (and then some) said...

I too would have been wearing the big t shirt. I cannot imagine having to go to Lane Bryant for a halter top!! Good for you....I would be getting a refund so I could go and get ice cream ~grins~

Moreena said...

Hey! I wear those 2XL t-shirts, too!

I am still giggling a bit. Push-ups in goose poop, indeed.

Moreena said...

Oh, and I missed commenting on your last post, so:

hooray and congratulations! Of course, you *are* a writer - a wonderful, fantastic one

Jessica said...

Dog urine and goose poop....HAH!

Oh, Sarahlynn - you are so funny!

Hey, remember I was a certified personal trainer for four years. Let me know if I can help.

PPB said...

Okay, first of all the Hot Mamas class gets several bonus points for the cute name. And considering it is summer, even more so.

At the Y I belonged to in mid atlantic state, there was an exercise class called 140. It met at 1:40 p.m., and you had to weigh at least 140 pounds to be in it. I thought it was brilliant--an exercise class that left out the tiny people. Not that we wish the tiny people any harm, but there's something to be said for the absence of tiny people when the average and above average get together to sweat.

PPB said...

Okay, first of all the Hot Mamas class gets several bonus points for the cute name. And considering it is summer, even more so.

At the Y I belonged to in mid atlantic state, there was an exercise class called 140. It met at 1:40 p.m., and you had to weigh at least 140 pounds to be in it. I thought it was brilliant--an exercise class that left out the tiny people. Not that we wish the tiny people any harm, but there's something to be said for the absence of tiny people when the average and above average get together to sweat.

Grace said...

Jesus. 140. That's not tiny?

Psycho Kitty said...

Who says we don't wish the tiny people harm?
Oops. Did I say that out loud?
You go, Sarahlynn. And everything Trisha said.