Of Bodily Tortures and Good "Vines"
I made it! I decided to join one of those ubiquitous sports lessons they offer at the gym. The list of tortures by choice was extensive:
bodypump (I could only think of some devious Torquemada pumping the blood out of you)
aquacise (what they did to witches in Salem)
bodyattack (painfully self-explanatory, you possibly cannot feel your legs after it)
bodybalance (put you on a tightrope, pelt you with stones and see if you fall...)
... naaaah, I gave them all a miss and decided to join bodyconditioning.
And so I had my first lesson this morning haunted by the thought that I might due to the extrenuous effort as my gym experience is not precisely extensive (my goddess like body falls into the ancient Venus figure side rather than Beyonce Knowles' goddess body style). Cue also images of myself having to drop the lesson mid class, etc etc... So I was overjoyed when I saw that I had actually joined the old ladies' class!
But what old ladies! Fit as fit can be.
You may all sympathise with me remembering your first aerobics lesson: you hide in the last row of the room, step onto your next row neighbour's toes, miss the step and fail miserable to follow the exercises. I mean, you follow them OK, but only when they have already passed on to a different training routine. Basically I felt like a gym penguin.
The main problem of a fitness class is not following the steps or keeping up with the 60 year old babes, but getting acquainted to the cryptic terminology they use. For a linguist it is quite of a challenge. I spent most of the class questioning the whys and hows of the names for each exercise: we had the "lateral step" (that one was easy), the "great jack" (duh?) and the "great vine" (cuvee d'hermitage?). All sounds like gym gibberish to me, so if someone can enlighten me on the etymologies, please do so. I've only reached the conclusion that all seems to be "great" about it, above all the pain and sweat.
So here I am, in need of a shower, sharing with the online world the fact that I've joined a gym class (hey ho! hats off and all that),
... and toasting to it with my very personal great vine, a lovely Rioja 95.
bodypump (I could only think of some devious Torquemada pumping the blood out of you)
aquacise (what they did to witches in Salem)
bodyattack (painfully self-explanatory, you possibly cannot feel your legs after it)
bodybalance (put you on a tightrope, pelt you with stones and see if you fall...)
... naaaah, I gave them all a miss and decided to join bodyconditioning.
And so I had my first lesson this morning haunted by the thought that I might due to the extrenuous effort as my gym experience is not precisely extensive (my goddess like body falls into the ancient Venus figure side rather than Beyonce Knowles' goddess body style). Cue also images of myself having to drop the lesson mid class, etc etc... So I was overjoyed when I saw that I had actually joined the old ladies' class!But what old ladies! Fit as fit can be.
You may all sympathise with me remembering your first aerobics lesson: you hide in the last row of the room, step onto your next row neighbour's toes, miss the step and fail miserable to follow the exercises. I mean, you follow them OK, but only when they have already passed on to a different training routine. Basically I felt like a gym penguin.
The main problem of a fitness class is not following the steps or keeping up with the 60 year old babes, but getting acquainted to the cryptic terminology they use. For a linguist it is quite of a challenge. I spent most of the class questioning the whys and hows of the names for each exercise: we had the "lateral step" (that one was easy), the "great jack" (duh?) and the "great vine" (cuvee d'hermitage?). All sounds like gym gibberish to me, so if someone can enlighten me on the etymologies, please do so. I've only reached the conclusion that all seems to be "great" about it, above all the pain and sweat.
So here I am, in need of a shower, sharing with the online world the fact that I've joined a gym class (hey ho! hats off and all that),
... and toasting to it with my very personal great vine, a lovely Rioja 95.
Muahahahahha! I can just imagine poor you standing in there. Nice thought.
So from your new hobby, I gather you're a little less stressed with your 1000 jobs?
I'll write soon to tell you about the suing business, or I might just as well ring you, heheh!
Posted by
kleine__hexe |
7:42 am