Thing 210 Aerobics Class

Oh just look at fatty there sweating his little head off. Wait, his fat head. It is a rather large melon. At the best of times I'm a lazy bum, and at the worst of times... well, you don't want to know, but it involves grease. Lots of grease. After six months on the sideline since the marathon, there's been no major exercise till last week.

I started with a couple of runs. Nothing stressful. Five miles. Jogging, at almost no pace at all. I'm comfortable with that. Barely moving is worse than not moving at all while sitting on my ass, but it's better than actual running. Took me a week to get into it, but I'm managing it fine now. So I thought I'd take a pop at aerobics. Can't be that hard. Light engaging workout to the same music that petrol heads blare as they drive their johnny-go-fast-cars up William Street at twenty five thousand miles an hour. Easy peasy...
No. No, no, no. And worse than it not being easy was the fact that every other woman there looked like they were having fun, not trying to keep Death's scythe from chopping through their puffing lungs.

That's a thing you probably guessed about aerobics. There's not that many men. In fact, I was the only one, aside from the instructors. I took my place at the beginners lot, right down the back. The instructor assumed I was gay. Or at least I think he did. He cracked a joke about how everyone in the class should pay attention to his instructions, and stop preening themselves for all the boys benefit. He seemed to be looking at me as he said it. I'm not trying to impress the boys dammit!!

Then he started moving. Quickly and erratically. First his legs went left, then they did a stepping bit, then he turned on the spot and walked up a little step. Then he repeated. I did what I thought was the same thing but involved more grunting and sweating on my part. It also made me trip over my feet. The good grace of the ladies taking part in the class was all that prevented them from breaking themselves laughing.
There's Betty Boop and me just before my head began leaking massive amounts of liquid.

Exercise is important. Everyone should do it. And by everyone, I mean all of you. Not me. Or at very least not this type. There's an exercise type for everyone. In Token Northy's case, he likes weights, but not running. I dislike weights, mostly because I don't know what individual reps are working what muscles. I do like running though. Only because it's straightforward. In a straight line from my house to a point. Then back. I don't have to worry about what muscles are being worked. I just have to keep running till I'm home. Forrest Gump style.

There's a bit more Forrest Gump in me than I'd care to admit actually.