I haven't been as uber-exercisey this past week as I normally am. On Monday I left work with every intention of attending my free-weights class yet somehow found myself driving home instead. Most days, I'm gung ho for movement after eight hours of sitting but sometimes I just want to go home and be lazy, so I did. I think I probably exercise more than the average person, though, because when I tell people what I do in the average week, they always look a bit shocked. I just have to, is all. I sometimes feel like I'm in a non-active cocoon all day and I need to break a sweat to shake it off.

My personal training sessions are coming to an end after this week and I'm glad. My trainer is very nice but kind of a spaz and she really likes to tell me all the things she'd like to have me do if only ____. The college's gym facility is the most incredibly crowded place ever and there's never enough space or equipment. It's frustrating. They also have the worse magazine selection; it worse than a dentist's office. It�s bizarre stuff like Guns & Ammo, Dog Fancy, and Golf Magazine. Who would ever want to read that crap? Hell, sometimes the only thing that'll get me on a treadmill is a fat new copy of In Style. It's a guilty pleasure, but hey, whatever works.

Back to the personal trainer: she does more talking than actual training and it bugs me. Yes, it's lovely to talk about how unfit kids are these days but could we please do some more ab work like you promised? Also, it's very nice that you'd like to have me do walking lunges, but there's no room, so why do you keep bringing it up?

She did point out that I need to do more weight-bearing cardio and introduced me to a piece of equipment that, for years, I've been quietly pretending didn't exist. It's called a StepMill aka The Gauntlet. I said Goddamn. It's like a little set of stairs that moves faster and faster. If you don't keep up, you fall your ass off the back. Yay. I got on it and started to walk on a slow setting. No problem, I'm fit, y'all. I cranked it up. Then a little more. Then a little more. Suddenly I felt like my freaking throat was closing up and realized I was *panting*. This thing kills. Oh, I can do a three hour mountain bike race, but walk up a flight of stairs for ten minutes and I'm dying.

I highly recommend it.

My gym added a new Flow Yoga class on Thursday nights, so after my usual spinning class I decided to give it a shot. I love the Tuesday Power Yoga they also offer, so I figured this wouldn't be hard. I was wrong. By hard, I don't mean it was especially physically challenging, more like a...mental challenge. See, the instructor was a) a Low Talker and b) had a strong German accent. I couldn't understand a damn thing she said. Also, the yoga room doubles as the aerobics studio, so the outside gym noise is pretty audible, which makes things worse.

Anyway, the class started when she turned off the overhead lights and switches on the little mood lamp in the corner. The room was dim, but I've never had a big problem following the class before; if I can't see the instructor, I use the mirrors or check out my neighbor. None of this would've matter much if she'd done the traditional sun salutation stuff, but after one or two, she started doing totally new moves.

Instructor: "Bend your arm skhdg slaitjs dlkathosilem like this."

Me (and everyone else): "Uh..."

Instructor: "No, first you aotishn skatkjh leg atiuewoaihk aoet okay?"

We all squint through the dim to try to see what she's doing.

The Instructor: "No, no, you should alskjta aoitiah your back wkle;ytja, okay?"

one brave student: "Can you speak up? We can't hear you."

Instructor "Yes I aks altil akhweoiua."

Me: "Wha? Do what with my leg?"

It goes on like this for the entire hour. The "deep relaxation" part at the end wasn't because I couldn't be sure that's what we were supposed to be doing. We had our legs up against the wall. Was that supposed to be relaxing? Still not sure. The best part was in the middle of the class when she decided we were using the mirrors too much (WE HAVE TO BECAUSE WE CAN'T HEAR YOU, LADY) so she made us all turn to face the blank wall. Lovely. That made so much more sense.

I took my regular yoga class last night to compare and contrast (and to make sure I hadn't been exaggerating the weirdness of the new class) and it was lovely. I don't know what to do about that other class other than to avoid it altogether.

One final note on yoga: you know how you're supposed to clear your mind and find your center and all that? Yeah, I can't do that. When I clear my mind by using soothing imagery it just seems to make room for all the thoughts I've been shuffling aside all day: What should I make for dinner? Did Gwen Stefani get breast implants? Why does my back hurt? What happened to my middle school friend Alan Kempton? What if my car dies before Christmas? Shit, Christmas! What the hell am I going to make everyone for presents? What is that weird smell?

Enlightening, for sure.

5 chatty monkeys