If I have to exercise, can I at least do it without having to think about poop?

After months of excuses, real (moving, swine flu, pneumonia) and not (too busy, too tired, too many other things to do) I went back to working out this week. Monday was 45 minutes on the treadmill. A puff of the old inhaler and I was good to go.
Tuesday was…oh yeah, didn’t make it to the gym on Tuesday . (see unreal excuses, above)
Yesterday was Yoga at the brand-spanking new and oh-so beautiful Pure Yoga on the West Side (still un-sceney and uncrowded. Enjoy it while you can.)
And today was Nia.
For those of you who don’t know, Nia is…well, it’s hard to describe. I think of it as guided creative movement. It’s not really dance…but it sort of is. It’s not “aerobics” but it can be very aerobic. It’s not Yoga, but there are elements of Yoga and Tai Chi and Modern Dance. There is also a lot of talk about being in touch with your body, and about a sense of play. I’ve written about it here, if you want to know more.
ANYhoo, normally, Nia class makes me feel great, invigorated, and pretty damn good about myself. But today…not so much.  Because today, my instructor decided that we should spend the whole class feeling sexy.


I’m exercising, buddy. I’m wearing an old Alvin Ailey T-shirt, I have no make-up on, I’m sweating, I’m barefoot, I’m worried that since I’ve done nothing aerobic in two months that my pneumonia compromised lungs will collapse… and you want me to feel sexy?

I don’t feel sexy.  I don’t even want to think sexy.  All I want to think about is what I’m gonna eat when this is over.

To make things worse, he kept on using the idea of a puppy as an image. As in “scoop your arms as if you were picking up a puppy.”

Picking up, scoop and puppy. What do those two words make me think of?

You guessed it, picking up my puppy’s poop. In the living room. In my son’s bedroom. Everywhere, it seems, but outside.

So between the sexy talk and the puppy I did NOT feel empowered and invigorated. I felt sweaty and decidedly unsexy. And I kept on smelling poop.  Please, please, let the puppy not have pooped on something I’m wearing.

Ah well, enough complaining.  Time to go walk the dog.


    • says

      Oh! I don’t blame him. How could he know that the word “puppy” instead of making me think “soft, cuddly, cute” would make me think “poop, sleep loss, fortune in vet bills”?

  1. says

    Oh jesus you’ll not belief this. Our mindless dog simply farted on my ankle!? I mean what’s the matter with this!? I nourish this thing and I end up with that in return. I even now can not really belief this. Anyways, you hold a number of useful information there in your post. I knew Yahoo will take me to a few interesting stuff today :). Alright need to search for this creature now! Have a good day you all!

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