Exercise is Funny

The other day when I was on the elliptical, I had a random thought, what if a colonial pilgrim was transported through time and ended up in my gym during after-work peak hours? What a bewildering sight: Neon lights. Hundreds of people wearing spandex frantically running on machines, yet going nowhere at all. Lady Gaga tunes blasting. Men wearing shirts with their sleeves cut off. TVs broadcasting Keeping Up with the Kardashians at every turn....

Why a pilgrim? Who knows. Maybe Thanksgiving had some sort of influence.

Regardless of my historical character choice, next time you're at the gym, step back and look around at what's going on. It's really kinda funny. (Stability ball class, anyone?) I'm pretty sure that the more ridiculous you look, the better the workout. At least that's what I told myself tonight in Zumba.

This class was AH-mazing. My last Zumba experience was a little too low key -- retirement community-esque, if you will. But this was like being at a club. Except with all strangers (yep, super awkward at first). Men and women of all ages were shimmying and shaking without a care in the world. And that's the point. It's a chance to pretend you've got moves, even if you're rhythmically-challenged, (while burning a zillion calories). So what if that series of samba/butt-rolls makes you look like you're being electrocuted? There were definitely a few times I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and couldn't really process what my legs were doing. What can I say? My childhood in the suburbs of Cleveland really lacked Latin flair. I'll improve...

I think the pilgrims would have been into it. They seem like celebratory folk.

$1 for a Stability Ball

Have you guys seen this hysterical craigslist ad? After a particularly challenging yoga class, this guy tried to sell his yoga mat (used only once) for a dollar. His listing takes you through the ups (crush on the chick next to him) and downs ("150 degrees and cloudy. And hot. I can no longer move my limbs on my own ... I will lay sedentary until the aid unit arrives. I will buy this building and then have it destroyed."), fully detailing why he'll never step foot in that class again.

Tonight I had a similar "challenging" experience at the gym. Except I'm going to try to sell all of the gym's stability balls for a dollar, so I never have to take that class again.

All joking aside, it actually was an awesome class. With practice, in about three years I should be able to successfully do the things the teacher told me to. But let me just fill you in on some of my ups and downs of class tonight.

First of all, have you ever done a full body workout with a stability ball? It's impossible not to look like a beached whale that's found an over-sized sand toy. Actually, the entire class seemed to resemble different forms of sea life. The poor guy next to me was flopping around like a little sardine. I knew I was in good company when he let out a high-pitched shriek as the ball shot out from under him. 

Most exercises begin with you rolling your entire body over the ball into some sort of plank position. Then the super perky teacher tells you to do something ungodly, like 45 pushups with just your toes resting on the ball or headstands with one foot in the air, and one on the ball.

Are you KIDDING ME, LADY? What did I ever do to YOU? You should be paying ME to be here.

After doing a particularly hard series of what can only be described as acrobatics, I'm pretty sure I blacked out. The only reason I woke up is because Ke$ha was sprinkling glitter on my face. Following that brief hallucination, we were told to lay on our backs, and rock back and forth. The perky lady called it a teeter-totter. The last time I was on a teeter-totter, I remember it being fun. And then I got juice and animal crackers. Tonight, not so much.

A bit of advice: If you're ever going to do a class like this, avoid being in the back row, closest to the massive window that faces the rest of the gym. Yep, I had that prime spot. I'm sure the dudes lifting weights had quite a show the 62 times I rolled off the ball, cursing to myself like a truck driver. 

Forty five minutes later ... it was over. I took a deep sigh of relief, and teetered out of the room like a baby that just learned to walk. Moving tomorrow should be awesome.

Stressing Out Over Yoga?

I started doing Yoga regularly in June. And I'm totally hooked. It's the only workout I actually look forward to. Maybe it's because the end of the class involves laying flat on the mat with a lavender scented eye pillow. Or maybe it's because with each practice, I learn something new, or see a small improvement from the week before. There are tons of mind and body benefits -- which explains why people pack into studios like little Lululemon-wearing sardines.

That's why I was so surprised by this opinion piece in the NYTimes. Maureen Dowd (an avid yogi herself) takes a look at science writer William Broad’s new book, The Science of Yoga: The Myths and the Rewards, which basically claims yoga can make you insane, fat and/or seriously injured. (Click on that link, it's kinda crazy.)

Umm, what?

There's no way those arm-toning chatarungas are making me fat.  I will bench press this science writer and show him what's up.

Regardless of what's in this book, I'm not going to stress out about the alleged downside of yoga. With any exercise, you can be at risk for injury. And let's face it, I'm not exactly doing one-handed headstands while in the splits. Yoga helps me take a breather (literally) from the stress of everyday life for a bit, and just focus on the "now". It's a great, challenging workout, that's given me a new appreciation for incense and Ani diFranco music. And it's something I've been able to stick to ... unlike fitness fads that come and go.

Do you believe the hype from this book?