Thursday, July 7, 2011

I can kick, I can punch, I can kick...

I’m gonna wear you down, I’m gonna make you see, I’m gonna get to you, You’re gonna give into me...I’m gonna start a fire, You’re gonna feel the heat, I’m gonna burn for you, You’re gonna melt for me...
The sign up sheet said the class was on the third floor of the Health Pavilion. The third floor was deserted. No lights, no class, nothing. As I meandered around the corner i ran into a man pushing a huge laundry bin. He directed me to the fitness center. It was on the second floor, under the escalators in the opposite end of the Hospital. I walked around corners, past people nervously waiting, through a couple of swinging doors and finally made it to the center. The door was locked and the people inside were all furiously pushing themselves on treadmills and ellipticals, unaware of my dilemma, lost in their own fitness playlist. 

I slipped in behind a nurse and found the front desk. By now I was fifteen minutes late and had already been worried all day. See, I signed up for a kickboxing class. It is in the Hospital and I was imagining little old grandma's with their walkers kicking and punching for an hour. I was worried. 

I hate any type of class in a fitness center because of the mirrors.  These legs often make others jealous, and even take a few breaths away, and definitely get a few extra looks, but they add up to an ungraceful gangly mess. Especially when you are doing dance moves, or yoga, or kickboxing. Mirrors in these situations are my enemy. I not only have to concentrate on the steps, but I get the joy of watching my gangly mixed up self do it. Not attractive. Especially when you add in the extra active capillaries on my face that make it redder than a tomato the minute I start any type of physical exercise. 
After sneaking in and getting the directions to the right class I am off on another goose chase, hoping this time I'll end up in the right place. As I get off the final elevator and jog around the cafeteria I hear the music blaring. It's pumping, the instructor is yelling kick, punch, side kick, squat. I muster up all my gumption, wish I would have brought my walker (just in case) and swing around the corner to see a room full of average age, very mobile people sweating and kicking in time to the beat. 
I dropped my things, merged into the line, and smiled at myself because when i looked up all I saw looking back at me was a blue carpeted wall and a very energetic instructor. 
...I’ll use my eyes to draw you in, Until I’m under your skin, I’ll use my lips, I’ll use my arms, Come on, come on, come on, Give into me....

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