My mom is on a new health kick, which means that I get to tag along for the ride. We are both determined to get back into shape, which means hitting the neighborhood gym. The only way my mom will really tolerate the gym is if we take the fitness classes. So, here I am everyday at 4:30 p.m. meeting my mother for classes that range from step interval and turbo kick to Zumba and yoga. I try to hide as far in the back as possible while the instructor, who is perfectly toned and tanned, stands in front of a class full of middle-aged women and me. Some of the worst parts about this whole fitness fiasco are listed below:
1. Oh dear God—I can’t even keep up with the 70-year-old lady in the corner! She is kicking my ass.
2. Why is there always the one really hot chick in every fitness class? I think I spend more time watching her work out than actually working out. Ma’am go home. You did it, you have a rocking body, you can leave now.
3. If I have to do one more squat, I think I might poop my pants.
4. Why is that 20-something wearing granny panties? And does she realize that we can all see her white Hanes when she bends down?
5. My noodle arms are burning!! One more push-up and they will fall off.
6. Will anyone notice if I just lay down? Nope? Okay, I’m doing it. Yeah that’s right, you do those push-ups. I’ll be here. Resting.
7. Are we at the part where we can stretch? I can do that part!
At least I burned enough calories to eat ice cream later.
