Taskmaster Kate

I made it to class, as I usually do, with about two minutes to spare. Last week, there were only twelve of us in class and, this week, there were 20 plus which meant that the only space left in class was wayyyyyyyyy up front -- close to the mirror. This young woman and I looked at each other like, hell no, not so close.

And, so, it was destined to be and I had a front row seat viewing my animated self. In the end, it was kind of cool because I ended up doing synchronized squats et al. with the woman that was equally horrified to be exercising near the mirror. Really, we could have been Olympians with our synchronized squat routine, especially when there were just a few of us doing squats as a modification.

By the way, the woman next to me was agreeable, nay, amicable. Did I ever say how amicable folks move me in a Nina Simone kind of way? But I digressed...

Sometimes I succumb to my juvenile side and when things got rough, no, I didn't get going, I started making faces and I connected with this woman's eyes in the mirror and she was smiling and I was smiling and I got a, thank God, short case of the giggles which I'll just chalk up to butt-kicking delirium.

Kate is becoming more efficient at doling out pain. As a matter of fact, I'm going to start calling her the Warrior Pain Princess Hurricane Taskmaster Kate.

I looked at the clock at 5:12 and couldn't believe that only 12 minutes had elapsed. I think we did about 40 minutes of high impact cardio. For the record, I still hate imaginary tires and I'm not too fond of lunges.

Towards the end of class, Kate said that we still had six minutes for abs. Oh goody, I muttered. We tried to put our feet on the ceiling, turned our legs into scissors and slowly lowered one leg at a time. Ouch, that's all I'm saying.

As we exited the class, the condensation fresh on the windows, I noticed that my behind was already sore. No wonder all of my pants are sagging.