About Last Night

That movie starring Demi Moore and Rob Lowe inspired me to start wearing jeans and sneakers.  I know you’re saying, “Wow!  For the longest time, I’ve felt as though something was missing.  Knowing THAT just completes my life!”  Don’t be smart, I’m just sharing.

I had the air punched right outa me last night.  Lindsie too!  By fistless things!  Side slides, kicks, isolations annnnnnnd Jarryd's favourite?!?  Push-ups!  You know, I've been trying to tell him, ever since he taught our krump class?  Look?!!  Teacher?  I’m all for fitness and everything.  You’d never say just looking at me, I know, but I try to be as physically correct as possible.  I don’t have to believe in it.  But we’re in an age where gym, (choke)?  Is the innn thing!  And believe it or not?  I was a bi-weekly, leotard and leg-warmer wearer back in the day for Keep Fit.  Keep Fit was aerobic classes for mostly old people.  My mum made me join.  Sniff!  But we didn’t have equipment and all of that.  We had a ghetto blaster.  A cassette.  And an instructor who was showing us what Jane Fonda was telling us to do.  Oh!  And male youngsters from the area, who would climb up and peep at us from the windows.  I even worked at a gym.  Teaching new members this routine.  I only know it as this routine.  I learnt how to do it.  Which worked great!  Far as me looking as though I knew what I was doing and why.  But all these gym terms?  And triceps, biceps, shhhhmiceps talk? 

If and when you meet me at the mall?  And you mention that you’ve just been to gym?  And I ask you how the cardiovascular work-out went?  I’ve memorized key words and I’m just being polite.  I really wouldn’t know how to cardiovascularize myself in a gym if my life depended on it.  If on another occasion, you see me running laps around the interior of gym?  Or trying to dive from the speeding treadmill into the pool?  I’ve taken the time to find out that it had something to do with your chest vibrating at how fast your heart is beating.  But only because my life depended on it.  Do me a favour though.  Stop me.  Stop me and show me how to use the gym equipment instead of making myself a clown in public.  I can’t promise you that I’ll speak to you at that point because I will be very angry.  I am as anti-gym as I am, the weekends ending.  

So, I tried to tell Jarryd, lasssssssst year already.  Not in so many words but.  First?!  I used wounded expressions and was often tempted to ask him, “What would Jesus do?”  If he saw someone that looked like me right now?  He didn’t seem to notice my facial distortion.  So being the student that I am?  I got down on my hands and knees...and prayed.  Well?!  I wanted to pray.  And I said something like, “Ay” that could easily be translated into, “This body of mine?  Was not designed for push-ups.”  But when he ignored that too and still signalled for me to stay down on the floor and give him thirty two?  My mind whined.  And judging from last night...it still is!  I looked around thinking Lindsie might have passed out?  Normally?  When I hear voices!  That’s my reaction.  Since I hadn’t been to dance for months now?  I forgot what my mind’s grumbling voice sounds like when it says, “Look at this ass in comparison to these arms?  How do you think an ant feels lifting a rock for four sets of eight?”

For some reason, and really speaking?  No.  That’s a lie.  It’s not for sommmmmme reason.  I know the reason.  But doing that particular exercise seems, to some extent, on a level easily comparable to having my toes set alight!  It's alllll an assumption, though.  An assumption of similarity to the smouldering sensation that I bravely endure?  While gasping and heaving breath that’s lodged somewhere in my body!  Grappling and clutching onto the shiny tiles beneath my sweaty palms!  (Impossible to grab onto tiles, lemme tell you!)  Silver flecks begin to swim not far from my eyeballs.  All, as I finally lift my entire body weight using my future six-pack and tremulous, strengthless arms!  Unable to speak?  But it’s evident by the abrupt dilation of my pupils that I’m counting!  Wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwunnnnnnn...aaaaaaaaargh!  And then battle forward as I move onto the second count! 

Do you know that some of our fellow human beings do push-ups, voluntarily?  >_<  Why, anybody, with feelings, would?  I do not know, but?!  "Each to his own."  I say.  “If it floats ya boat.”  I also say.  “If pain is your game.”  I haven’t yet said that one but I might, sometime in the future.  Exercise?  That's one thing you won't ever hear me talk about in any kind of intimate way!  It is my firm belief that alllll women should have been born with metabolisms that work.  Thyroid glands.  That work.  And fat cells?  That don’t work!

I did, however, drift into slumber with the preconceived notion that my body would feel as though I tripped over an orange brick and landed on someone who didn’t exactly appreciate it?  But I have very, verry, verrry few aches today.  O_O!!!  That could mean one of two things.  Either?!  I am still fit but just rusty, as Geese so preciously put it?  Orrrrr?!?  I gave myself the mistaken impression about how hard I worked in class last night.

All that matters to me right now, though?  Is that I'm back at dance!  And I lovvvvvved it!