Attacked

This one's from the vault. I wrote this some time in the summer, but forgot to post it.

When Bree first joined the gym with us, she didn’t want to do the classes. She thought that they were cheesy. But Kristin and I are big fans of the classes and Bree slowly came around. Now she’s a class whore, just like us. Monday night, I tried her favourite class, Body Attack, for the first time. Wouldn’t you know, it was the cheesiest class of them all; but that’s not to say it didn’t totally kick my ass. It was like 80s aerobics (which I grew up on) on acid. The cute male instructor definitely had some kind of history with cheerleading and insisted on finishing every track in a pose. Where he kept digging out the energy from, I’ll never know. This class is extremely fast moving, so you never have much time to reflect on what it is you are actually doing before you are moving on to something else. Somehow I was inspired to do the jumping lunges, which I am still paying for 2 days later. It also hurts to put pressure on my butt cheeks, so sitting is even challenging. Bree claims that this class with lift and separate your tush like your favourite push up bra. Running has made my butt as flat as a pancake, so I think I will be returning to this class to try to regain my bootie.

Last night, I had the same teacher for Body Pump and he was so distraught by the techno selection for the clean and press track that he had to turn on the disco lights to make himself feel better. Move over Robert and Cpt. Guns, I have a new favourite instructor.

-Al