I can remember getting home from work at 4:30am. This morning, my phone alarm went off at 4:30am, alerting me it was time to get up.
I grunted my way around and I think I must have been up by 4:45, because I was "dressed" and ready to go at 5am. So I had 20 minutes to spare. You can bet I'm giving myself that 15 minutes in bed back on Thursday!
It took me a lot less time to get ready for aqua aerobics this morning than it did on Saturday because I loaded my bag and laid out my sweats last night. I knew my brain would be mush for the first half hour or so. What surprised me is I was fairly functional by 5. Tired, grouchy, longing for my bed, but functional.
So in the car I was at 5:20. K-love on the radio, ALDI diet cola in the cup holder. The streets were pretty quiet. After all, what sane person is up that early?
The class itself went okay, for the most part. I jogged. I twisted to 60's music. I "dolphin kicked," sort of. There was no pole dancing today. (Riding an aqua noodle.) Instead, they invented a new form of torture with those floating kick boards.
"All right ladies. Have them criss crossed flat like this, then push them down under the water, sit on them, and cross your legs under to hold them in place."
Mm,hm. Yeah. Sure. In chair yoga yesterday, I could barely cross my ankle over one knee sitting in a chair, and you want me to do what?
"Balance ladies. Don't forget your balance!"
No problem with forgetting it. How about just finding it? First you want me to sit on two things under water that are meant to help people float on the water, and then you want me to take my feet off the bottom of the pool and cross them vertically indian style to keep them from escaping. Sure. That may happen. In six months. Fat floats, and I think that worked against me.
Thankfully that section didn't last long. I can crab walk, soldier kick, frog kick, whatever. Just save the balance for yoga.