It started with walking 3 mornings a week.
Then came Boot Camp Aerobics, which translates, roughly, into: “A Very Young Skinny Thing will torture you in ways you can only imagine, and she will make you feel every single one of your 42.9 years, twice a week.” And I’m paying for this.
Then came Cardio Kickboxing, taught by the same Way Too Young Thing, whereupon new and adventurous methods of torture were applied, twice a week. Kick, jab, squat, bob & weave, hold your left foot in your right hand and jump in a 360 degree circle with one eye closed and your left nostril flared.
At first, there was elation.
Yay, I can do this!
Hurray, I have more energy!
Yippee, I’m sleeping well!
Then came Reality.
Holy crap, I’m tired today.
Cripes, my knees hurt.
Sheesh, I can feel the paper-thin lining of each muscle that comprises my quads.
But this is good for me, right?
Yeah.
It will give me youth!
Zest!
Zing!
Minty fresh breath and pert, perky boobs!
And I’m gonna do it again tonight…
Really, I’m not as dumb as it sounds.
Sooner or later, it’ll either pay off, or I’ll have a heart attack, and hopefully that Skinny Young Thing knows CPR.
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