There are not many occasions in January for which I'll don a bathing suit.
For instance, traditional New Year's Day Polar Bear swim down at Goose Spit?
Uh uh. No way.
Are those people insane?
Nope, I don't care for winter-time beach fun much I have to say.
But I guess I'll put on a bathing suit (somewhat reluctantly I'll admit) if I'm indoors. And the pool is heated. And if I have a friend who invites me to go a-aquacizin' with her. And if I talk myself into it.
Yep, Tuesday night is Aquacize Night at the local pool, and I thought I'd give it a try because:
a) Melanie is my friend and I want to hang out and talk with her more
b) it sounded kind of fun despite the whole sorry mental bathing-suit/body-image/skin that glows white-in-the-dark thing
c) exercising in a pool means there is no sweatiness involved
d) Note to self: Go bathing-suit shopping and find something like the 1920's suit pictured here. Elegant. Refined. Covers one's butt completely. It's all I ask of a bathing-suit.
What I Learned:
a) The aquacize class is actually called The Power Hour ....because it is...an hour. And it's well, vigorous. Non-stop. Taxing. ( How do all the little old ladies who take these sorts of classes do it?) Hey, wasn't there some sort of bizarre evangelical television program called "The Power Hour"....hmmm...
Anyhoo, whatever happened to the Twenty-minute Workout-and Go-Relax-in-the-Hot-Tub class? The instructor actually smiled as she told us, "I'm not paid to be merciful."
b) Despite the initial shock of having to exercise harder than I have in (*gulp*) quite a while, it is actually quite fun thrashing around underwater to songs from Flashdance and the extended dance-mix version of I Will Survive .
c) You can't sink if you try with one of those floater-belts around your waist. Which is a good thing when you're like me and sinking is mostly what you can skillfully do in a pool.
d) LEAD WITH THOSE OBLIQUES! SQUEEZE THOSE GLUTES!
DOUBLE-TIME! MORE! FASTER! COME ON, YOU PEOPLE! GOGOGOGOGO!
e) If, like myself, you suffer from Aerobic-Class Choreography Dyslexia where your legs jump out when the instructor's legs jump in, and your arms want to go in exactly the opposite directions as being demonstrated at the front of the class, this might be the kind of class for you. You're underwater. Nobody can see you thrashing around.
And that's a GOOD thing. :)