I try to get in for a Anti Gravity Yoga class, but all of them (they had one at 7 and then another at 8.15 and that's just this evening) are booked right up to the weekend. Hmmmmmm..... naturally, now I'm dying to try one out. I suck it up and resign myself for another hour of torture. The backs of my thighs send me piteous messages. Wasn't an hour of Latin Fitness enough punishment for the double mushroom Swiss? Just give us a year... please, not two consecutive days.... I ignore them, but it's a struggle.
The class hasn't begun and the instructor chappie is Singaporean with the most ginormous butt I've seen on them. It's even bigger than mine and that's even before he mentions the fact. How is that even possible? He must be genetically modified. In the 3 years since I've moved, no one, but no one has a butt of any description in this country! How bizarre. Anyhow, we start the warm up which is peaceful, but my body stays taut anticipating the impending beating it will get. Big butt then goes off to fiddle with the music, constantly muttering to himself and doing little dance moves. Oooook. Is this normal? I look around, the other women seem sanguine, so I let it go, but I can feel a tiny frown knocking on my brow. He's back...
And he's talking about some steps. Dance steps. Step clap, pah, pah, pah.... Huh? One, two, pah, pah, pah. Excuse me? The others start following him. I keep my mouth from dropping into a gape and try and do the same. I thought this was a fitness class. Exercise, sweat. They just pump it up and you struggle to keep up. Clearly there was a misunderstanding. He does the first segment and we follow. I decide that the treadmill is my only option on a Tuesday since clearly I don't have a hope in hell at the anti gravity class. We do it with the music this time. By the third sequence, the silliness of it all gets to me and I find myself giggling, but I do the butt shaking and the hands. Steps, follow, try, try again, music, whole sequence... from the top! I never thought I'd find myself taking anything from the top with a five, six, seven, eight! but apparently I had been misinformed by destiny. We were never going to make Beyonce's back up dancers, but after several hilarious attempts, some even passable at the entire sequence, we completely botched the transition into a repeat and collectively lost the plot to spontaneous laughter. Big butt then did the whole thing with us flourish et al (he's just that sort) and demanded applause before informing us it was our turn. I swear, the woman next to me took a nervous pre performance gulp and we launched into it and jiggled our way through it twice most happily and applauded ourselves...
I'm not sure how I feel about this hour. Let's wait till next week and see....
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