Wednesday, Jan. 11, 2006
Was gonna do another one about All The Stupid Drivers Around Here.
But I'm too tired/don't really care. So I'll bore ya with something else. Hmmmm ...
Okay. Well, my first time back to a pilates class after an extended period away is always very uncoordinated. Totally non-graceful. And not very pretty.
It feels almost like being a baby in the beginning toddler stages, rolling around on the floor and bumping my head.
Except instead of a bunch of smiling adults oohing and ahhing at the miracle that is me, it's a bunch of adults also rolling around on the floor, in various stages of uncoordinated gracelessness, looking very-very serious.
Quietly now and behold:
the Zen masters of the local community college rec center.
Yes, ohm. But hard as we try, the stillness of the pond is often disturbed by many pebbles. Usually in the form of screaming babies from the child care center adjacent to the aerobics/yoga/flail-about room.
Or cellphones.
There is something to this whole pilates thing, though. It definitely lets you know that yes, you've got abdominal muscles in there and OH yes, there are many ways to torture them.
The ol' core is still begging for mercy and more Tylenol.
It would have preferred to remain blissfully reundiscovered.