The good news about skipping is that I got to sleep in a few extra days. The bad news is that essentially all of the sections changed while I was gone and I'm sort of lost with the new choreography.
Now, I don't mind being lost for a few classes. I eventually catch up and catch on. And, truth be told, it makes me smile, while I'm out there bouncing around erratically, to imagine myself as a fly on the wall watching how completely dorky I look as I try to figure it out. It must be hilarious.
But here's the kicker: the new sections include a shit-ton of burpees and pushups.
Ugh.
There's nothing cute about 47-year-old me, still stiff from Saturday, and 15 pounds heavier than I'm used to being, trying to pop up and down like a pogo stick. The Burpees are particularly cruel because my parts just don't bend like they need to, fast enough, for me to look remotely coordinated or fluid.
And don't even get me started on the pushups. Man, you don't do them for month or two and it's all over. It's like you're starting out with wimpy Olive Oyl arms.
The only way to make it better is to keep doing it, I guess.
So that's what I'll do.
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