Oh. My. Gosh.
Can someone please jump my aerobics teacher and force her to pay up for a massage?
My butt and back and thighs are so sore.
My mom and sister and I take a step aerobics/body conditioning class twice a week at the YMCA. When we started a few months ago, this really nice young lady named Julie was teaching the class. She’s one of those girls who have -3% body fat, fake tits, and always wears a full face of makeup when she works out.
I usually stare at her non-existent ass and wonder if she’s ever eaten a twinkie in her life while I huff and puff through the exercise routines. You would think that she’d be annoying because she’s this perfect little Barbie doll, but we love her. She’s sweet and cute, and my sister likes to describe her as “delightfully tacky”. You’d just have to see her to understand why.
Well, the last few weeks, she’s just been part of the class while this other lady has taken over.
Nazi lady. That’s what my mom and Kathryn and I call her.
And last night, Nazi lady tried to kill us.
Let me tell you, there is nothing more obnoxious than having Nazi lady in your face yelling at you to “Come’on! Get LOWER!” as she marches in front of you, knees practically in her boobs and her ass shaking like a volcano about to rupture as it strains under the intesity of the damn squatting run she’s forcing us to do.
So maybe drill seargents are motivating for some people, but I’m a bit off the beaten path. It doesn’t work for me. Big surprise, I know (*sarcastic snort*).
It pisses me off and makes me want to kick her. And in fact, I did kick her yesterday.
It’s not as bad as it sounds. We were doing high kicks on the step. The kind where she wants you to lift your leg so high that you fly over backwards and give yourself a concussion.
To be honest, I was kind of hoping I might collapse under the force of it all so that I had a legit excuse to whimper like a wounded puppy and crawl out of the seventh degree of firey hell my muscles and lungs were experiencing.
She walked by me and growled in her man-voice, “I wanna see you kick HIGH! Kick my hand!”
So I did. I hope it hurt. Is that wrong of me?
Mind you, this is after like 15 minutes of serious ab work and another 15 minutes of arms and legs with weights.
Oh, and to top it off, the bitch made us use weights for the rest of the night while we ran through this crazy intense step aerobics for half an hour.
Ow.
Afterwards, I asked Julie’s sister when she was going to start teaching the class again. Her answer wasn’t super satisfactory.
And to console myself, I downed like 10 pounds of chocolate this morning while guzzling coffee.
Thank goodness part of James’ Valentine’s Day goodies included a bottle of massage oil.
You know, since I don’t think anyone actually will jump Nazi lady to make her pay up for a professional rub down.
She might break her assaulter’s knees with army squats and lunges that make their muscles bulge until they explode.
Sickly
Happy