Once upon a time, my sister Tami and I used to do this weight class (Rep Reebok, back then) at 5:30 in the morning one or two days a week... then they moved back to Vancouver and while I still went to the club, I couldn't make myself stick to the class without my bud.
Fast forward a few years and my co-worker Greg decided he'd do the class with me - I think we managed to get through it two or three times, but not once a week or anything... more like once a month.
Then he took a year or so off from the gym. Until he told a dating prospect that he liked to work out in the winter - so he said he had to back it up...
So today we did the class. I tried to talk Jeff into "playing" with us and he would have none of that, though he did go run on the treadmill. But when we used to do the class it was 50 minutes long. Today's class was 30 - but if we're being technical here, it was really 33 minutes long. And those. three. minutes. Friggin' sucked!
What's stupid silly about this is - and I'm laughing as I think this and type this - in mere hours I will be walking around like a penguin. It will hurt to laugh, pee, wash my hair, sit on 18 mattresses with a pea under the bottom one... Blinking is the only thing that won't hurt.
I won't be laughing in mere hours... if I'm lucky. It could be less than an hour before I'm determining how to get to the basement to do the laundry. If there was snow outside, I'd have my kids pull me from the front door to the basement door on a sled. Of course, I'd have to make myself get UP off the sled... so that's not ideal. Walking won't be ideal, steps will be out of the question...
BUT I will be laughing when I see Greg - and he looks as ridiculous as me! And I will laugh and laugh. And it will hurt.
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