Saturday, October 9, 2010
First off...I Apologize To The Woman Behind Me In Power Pump Class Today
The Real Post Is: Why I Think My Power Pump Class Is A Hidden Reality Show
I do think my power pump class is a hidden reality show. It has to be. It would make such bad TV. Although we aren't supposed to know about this "show" we are on, we are all aware of the hidden cameras behind those mirrors, at least I am.
Yup, it's official I definitely have an issue about being secretly taped (see my other blog "I Blame Dateline" - I'd link but I don't know how).
The Jeff Probst of our little aerobic room is Susie. She's a love but I can never understand her with that contraption around her head that is supposed to be a microphone. I swear one time she told us that there were brownies being given away right outside the door. I ran outside thinking this was a challenge, but of course there were no brownies. But, I definitely won the challenge.
Some of the challenges include things with glides and body bars and bender balls (jsyk me and my bender ball are now dating. I mean, come on something that knows you that intimately deserves "dating" status - BTW...I made up my own acronym - this one is "just so you know". Think it'll catch on?).
The cast of characters changes each week because the sane ones talk themselves out of going each morning. But each week you are surely to find...
...the over achiever with her 27 lb. bar, step on the highest block, 20 lb. hand weights. She scares me. She's always breathing heavy and sweating. No one will vote her off. I bet she can make fire by just rubbing a couple sticks between her beefy thighs.
...the underachiever with her 2 lb. hand weights, no bar and no step. Clearly the reason she was picked to be on our island is that she is so annoying and it is well documented that everyone loves a pain in the ass. She boosts ratings. She's the Johnny Fairplay of our tribe.
...the prom queen - oh, come on...every gym/island has one or 22. The make-up (really?), the coordinating little outfit, the little blond ponytail - what evs. She will be getting my vote. No need for me to be subjected to that little midriff each morning. There are no men on the island and I know the other women agree with me...so it's a sure bet.
..the dedicated older woman (no, it's not me...yet - but I'm praying that it is one day). She's in the back desperately trying to keep up and taking all the low impact options (God bless her, really!). She's the mom of the pack, we know her days are numbered but we cling to the fact that she is around us, cheering us on, pushing us to be better than we really are.
...the mom's. Here's where I fit in. We really don't want to be here. We are only here because we know we should. Diet and exercise, The Biggest Loser and all that, right? We moan when we hear the word curtsy lunges and we fake doing our push-ups (those girly, on-the-knee ones and you know we never go all the way down). Our weights could probably be heavier, but God forbid we end up looking like a WWF heavyweight champ (as if). We are biding our time, praying there's a fire drill, monsoon or our instructor pulls something. It's sad, really - but it is the truth. We don't care. We are just here so we can justify the triple layer chocolate cake tonight. Being voted off is really something we hope happens.
Actually, I write my friend's name down each week and I know she's doing the same for me.