Muscles of Jelly

I feel awful.  Okay.  I just had to get that out there right from the beginning.  I took an Introductory...Introductory, mind you...Pilates Mat class today.  Good heavens!  It kicked my butt!  OMG!  What would a real Pilates Mat class have been like?  Introductory?  Jeez...I'm lucky I survived.

All right, so I'm a little out of shape.  Well, maybe a lot out of shape.  But, who knew working on core strength was so hard?  And, this was a class with mostly older women, and some of them were rockin' this stuff!  I don't know how many years they've been at it, but, boy, am I behind.  The instructor was definitely as old as I am and she was in GREAT shape.  I'm jealous.

Half way through the class I was looking at the clock and willing the hands to move faster.  My muscles had already turned to jelly and were in spasms and I was feeling nauseous.  At the end I felt like I could barely walk straight.  My only thought was to get into the pool and float in the water for a while to relax.

After I struggled into my swim suit, because even the effort of bending over and pulling it on was too much, I staggered out to the pool.  Thank goodness there was a hand rail to help me navigate my way shakily down the stairs into the water.  And, thank goodness again, that there was a styrofoam noodle perched on the edge of the pool just waiting for me to use it.  The water was refreshing, but my muscles were so far past being usable at this point that even floating was beyond my capability.  And, I literally felt like I might hurl at any moment.

I lasted about ten minutes in the pool before hauling myself back out and stumbling into the women's locker room.  Thank heavens I'd chosen a locker close to the door.  I managed to stand long enough to get my things out of the locker and then collapsed onto the bench.  I miraculously managed to get my wet swim suit off and put my clothes on, although at one point, I did consider wrapping the towel around me and walking out naked.

You would have thought I'd been at sea for years the way I wobbled out of the gym.  I managed to get almost all the way to my car, cursing under my breath the whole time, before someone tried talking to me.  I was so focused on reaching the car that I didn't realize someone was actually addressing me at first.  Then, this cheery voice cut through my haze with, "It looks like rain doesn't it?"  What?  Rain?  Oh...yeah.  Keep walking, Trudy.  You can make it.  It's only a few feet more.  I open the door and throw my stuff onto the seat and sit down.  Thank you, thank you, thank you.

I drive home counting the minutes and how many more turns I have to make to get to my driveway.  Come on.  Almost there.  You're doing good.  There...there...there's my driveway.  The garage door goes up, I drive in, the garage door closes.  Ahhhhh.....  I'm home.  I grab my things and go into the house and manage to hang up the wet things before I collapse onto the bed.  I sleep for the next two hours like a dead person.  I'm out.  Hasta la vista.  Gone.

Who knew exercise would be hazardous to your health?  No wonder they ask for someone to notify in case of an emergency.  I'm lucky I'm healthy as a horse with a very sturdy body and low blood pressure.  But, I certainly pushed the envelope today.  I'm hoping a few more times and it all might not seem so lethal.  I knew I had a ways to go, but this is embarrassing.

Maybe it's huge denial, and I might wake up in the morning and realize that my muscles have gone on strike until further notice, but I'm planning to go to salsa class.  The Pilates isn't fun, but it will be beneficial if I can will myself into staying with it.  But, the salsa will be fun, which is what I'm more interested in.  If I'm going to kill myself with the Pilates, I'm not going to miss the fun of salsa.  So, one more time into the breach in the morning, for another shocking reality my body is still getting used to.  Put on the music!  Let's go!  Ole!