Monday, December 19, 2005

The Russian Drill Sergeant

Of all the characters that populate the movie that is my life, the Russian Drill sergeant evokes the most mixed emotions. There is envy, hate, friendship, amusement. I don't know if the Russian Drill Sergeant, who is also known as my aerobic instructor, is actually Russian. I am taking a guess though because she has a slight accent and the way she says the word three in German ("drei") is a give away. Anyway, in my world I have decided that she is Russian.

Today she kicked my ass. Monday is step-aerobics, which are not so bad. It started out slow, and she was playing her Cher/Whitney Houston CD (these are both surprisingly good for aerobics), but it quickly went down hill. We had to stand on the step with one leg slightly bent and then lift the other sideways, while wearing leg weights. My ass hurts so much right now. There are muscles hurting that I did not even know I had. Place your hands on your hips with your thumbs facing forward and you fingers toward your butt. Those muscles between your hip and your rear can really hurt!

We did a special sequence of steps and about 20 minutes later I was totally out of breath and wondering why I got out of bed this morning. Then the CD switched and we did the last sequence to a rock/hip-hop version of "We Wish You a Very Merry Christmas." "Swing your hand in the air," the Russian Drill sergeant said with a wacky grin. I almost fell off my step when I started laughing. However, it was all too much and my body was exhausted. Now the Drill Sergeant has ruined Christmas songs for me . . . Forever . . . When the music was over this crazy woman in the class (not crazy in the cute Claire way, but crazy in the I don't think she's taken her meds today way) shouted, "Let's do another round!" "NO!"

After the cardio comes the abs. Abs also started out completely normal. That's the thing about the Russian Drill Sergeant. She lures you into a false sense of security. "Lay on your back. Raise your legs so that they are perpendicular to the floor. Now raise your butt up into the air and lift your head up to form a crunch." Ouch. That hurt. "You should do this without rocking and momentum. Only use your abdominal muscles." Honey, if I could do that I would not be in this damn class. The sweet, sweet pain was barely tolerable. "It must hurt," she shouted. "Enjoy it!" She was totally oblivious to the groans of pain and cries for mercy from her students as she ordered one more set.

When it was all over I went home, pleased that I had managed to survive yet another class. Then I had chocolate chip cookies for lunch. Some might call that self-sabotage. I call it a reward.

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