Exercise for the body and mind

Yah. I hear ya. Send all complaints in the form of compliments, and I might respond. If you have no complaints, you're not human.

So, it's been a while. Like 3 weeks. I know. I've been sublimating all of my creative energy into working out. It sounds stupid, but it's not. I have to get up and force my body to do one thing each day...type and be funny OR run like there's a mean dude chasin' me. Lately, the latter.

If only blogging burned more calories. I need jlogging...a healthful combination of blogging and jogging. Can you imagine how fiercely slim I would be if I burned calories being bitchy? Holy cow.

So, in the vein of burning calories, CC invited me to a Pilates class at her studio. CC was actually taking the class as well. But the thing is, CC doesn't understand the TREMENDOUS pressure (for some one like me) involved in going out to exercise.

First, there is the outfit. Flattering. (There goes half the closet) Exercise sensible (There goes 49.5% more). Fortunately, my very supportive Valentine bought me workout clothes for the upcoming chocolate fest of a holiday. So, outfit in place.

Hair? Certainly no washing, but it can't look bedraggled. There will be SPRING HILL MOMS THERE! Low pony with headband.

Face? Nice washing and waterproof mascara. I don't want the tears to leave pathetic black smears down my cheeks.

There are people there, man. They might be watching me. I might fart with exertion. I might fall over while standing. I might cry a little. ALL KINDS OF THINGS CAN GO WRONG.

In all, of course, the class was challenging and invigorating and positive, especially since I have been working so hard at home. I could tell a HUGE difference since last summer when I took my first class, and that is after just about a month of work.

Back to CC, though. It's not that she doesn't understand the pressure, it's just that she doesn't relate. So, in order to help my dear friend understand the mental stamina involved in heading to a pilates class in public, I create the following scenario:

Imagine I have invited you to a convention of crossword puzzle afficianados. Now, imagine ALL of them have a New York Times Saturday puzzle in front of them. They all do the puzzle regularly, so they already know words like ORT and RIV and all the other obscure crossword-only words.
Now, they give YOU the puzzle.
And ask you to solve it.
In front of everyone.
In a fat suit.

Which is exactly what going to Pilates class is like. It was good for me. I'm better off for having gone. But for a while, there, I wanted to curl up into a ball and hide, like a nine letter North American Dasypodidae.