Ladies that blog together also try to die together…at the gym. For instance last Tuesday night at 6:30 p.m., Piedmont Fitness Center, Extreme 90xs Core Workout (Mike). It’s a miracle that all three of us aren’t dead.
Planning a mutually convenient hour to attend a fitness class together seemed like the hardest part of the whole deal…until we laid eyes on Mike. Typically, I only attend a.m. classes at Piedmont. Sometimes there are just two people in a class and always the attendees are, well, older. Put it this way, after “Mike’s” class, it’s shocking that I’m alive to write about it. I should be dead, and the girls aren’t far behind my agony.
Savanna, Diana and I knew that Extreme 90xs wasn’t “suitable for beginners,” the written description was clear. What we didn’t know was that the instructor had biceps the size of cantaloupes and that he wouldn’t make concessions for newcomers.
Note:
Mike’s class was a poor decision for me beyond his out-of-my-league physique. I was, and am, in the midst of nursing foot/calf injuries (plural). Perhaps you can relate: It’s just so stinking hard to give in to lameness.
After we set our positions up with steps and weights, Mike set the music blaring and pumping. The room was packed; he yelled orders like a pro and just looking at his arms made mine hurt before we began.
When I finally thought a nice cadence was in motion with my sore feet, Mike shouted for everyone to follow him out of the room. “We need to see some light,” he said. But there was no light. He had us run up a stairwell all the way to the top floor. Exactly how many flights? A LOT. I got dizzy and had to stop about halfway up and was happy to find, once I got going again, that Savanna had stopped too, a couple floors above me.
When back in the classroom, we were kicking in the air, dropping to the ground, grabbing weights, twisting, turning and trying as best we could to kill ourselves, or so it seemed. Then, Mike instructed us to the gym where we did sprints, laps, and walked back and forth in plank position, stopping when ordered to “raise your right, raise your left, forward, back…” Oh. My. God.
I’m not doing Mike’s class ever again because truth be known: I don’t want to die. Divorcing myself from Extreme 90xs after just one try doesn’t mean I don’t like Mike, because I do. We all liked Mike. But you won’t find me back in his class ever again.
And for that matter, I won’t be in any class for a while…until my injured foot heals. Prayers accepted.
Thank you for reading!
Love, Shelley
Here’s Sav’s experience Savanna
Diana’s take: Diana
In other news we grabbed Vietnamese coffee at Warhorse Coffee/The Goat Farm yesterday:
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