Today I will brave the gym once again. My friend, Ellen, and I agree that there is absolutely nothing natural about being in a gym. When she told me that she nearly fell off of the gym equipment yesterday (twice) during her personal training session, I felt somewhat encouraged. I have successfully dillied and dallied enough this morning so as to have conveniently and quite purposefully missed TOTAL BODY CONDITIONING and CLUB ABS. I will take the train to another NY Sports Club, in effort to avoid previously mentioned (blog entry) "Barry", and have plans to do a quick little 22 minute XPress Line workout with a somewhat normal personal trainer. Now, these are the same expectations I had for yesterday, so I'm not getting my hopes anywhere near "up".
What I am looking most forward to, however, is a little thing I saw on the Sports Club schedule called HIP HOP FUNK. I've only been to Hip Hop Funk one time before, and it was awesome. The flambouyant latino teacher was very patient with his three pupils. I caught on relatively quickly "for a white girl" (as a stranger in the gym pointed out to me as I took a water fountain break) and the other two ladies were about 10 years older than me with NO rhythm, which made me look like the Break-it-down-Britney of the class. All ingredients good for my Hip Hop experience. When I went to work that day, I tried to teach a 44 year old Mexican waiter I work with my new routine, but he couldn't get the salsa outta his bones. I felt like a hip hop master.
So, I am looking forward to today's gym experience. If nothing else, at least I won't have to avoid a certain personal trainer by ducking behind physioballs or by squeezing between the rows of treadmills. (I mean, I hate going behind tread mill runners. One false step and BAM! You've got sneaker tread all over your face.)
Wish me luck.
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