Let's Get Physical...physical.

Thank you Olivia Newton John. No sweatband was harmed in the making of this post.

Okay. I have made a commitment to myself to take better care of myself (again). My body is going downhill at a faster rate than I ever imagined. The stress level of my work and life are going uphill at a rate faster than I ever planned. You do the math.

I pay for a family gym membership on the 15th of every month. Let’s see, Braden went swimming this summer once and Brady has yet to step inside the gym. Where’s the “family” membership again? I was going faithfully earlier this summer, but got bored. This gym has many, many great classes that I could take. From kickboxing and pilates to yoga and fit ball. It’s that last one that has recently peaked my interest. I have a yoga ball at home. I like to use it when my back is out. It’s comfy and it works my lower back muscles– and it has been in my basement for about 6 months. I blame my son for that. I have to blame someone other than myself, right? I swear he thinks it’s a $30 playground ball. I don’t think so. It's safer in the basement. The basement I do not visit. Ever.

So picture it (if you dare). I went to the class last night. I didn't know one person in the room. Not ONE! This is very brave of me. I’m actually proud of myself. I even have on my pink and black cropped yoga pants with matching pink t-shirt. I think I was about 25 minutes into the 60 minute class, sitting on the big round playground ball when it hits me... “Oh. My. GAWD. Has anyone ever popped one of these in a class?” YIKES, what is the weight limit of one of these things anyways? Surely the instructor wouldn't let me sit on one if she thought I would pop it, right? (It's pretty obvious I’m no lightweight – you don’t get this body by eating salads all the time.) In my mind I’m pushing this ball to it’s limits. I'm sure it's practically flat when I'm using it. Thank goodness there are no mirrors in this room.

How embarrassing. I’m picturing the whole scene. The ball bursting and me running out of the room and out the front door. Would they give me a refund on the rest of my membership for the year? Would they take pity on a fat girl? I’m sure there was a clause in my membership contract – something about not being able to perform the workouts because you’re fat does not constitute a reason for a refund. I’m screwed!

You’ll be glad to hear that I made it through the entire 60 minutes and actually enjoyed the class - except for that 15 or 20 minute anxiety attack in the middle of class. In addition, on the advice of my friend Barb, I have since Googled© these yoga balls and have found out, to my relief, the balls test out between 300-400 pounds. I think I’m safe as long as I don’t have that extra pickle at lunch tomorrow.