With some time on my hands on Christmas Eve, I decided to take a “Splash cardio fusion” class at the gym thinking it would be good for the continuing rehab of my back. I had a feeling I was in for it when I got there and a) I was the only person in the class under 90 years of age and b) the instructor asked if we wanted to hear Motown or Big Band during the festivities. “Big Band!” I voted.
Then the class began.
I didn’t know it was possible to sweat in a pool, but I am here to tell you IT IS.
I was doing moves with names such as “Rocking Horse” “Ballet Jacks” and my favorite, “Noodle Legs” which involved curling your toes around a Noodle and doing 200 side leg extensions.
While Diana Ross blared, the teacher asked how many students had knee or hip replacements (as I said, it was an older group). I couldn’t say I had, but I proudly announced that I had a bulging disc and had just completed 8 weeks of physical therapy (or PT, I referred to it. I knew this crowd would understand the abbreviation. Sure enough, there were nods all around.)
But I shouldn’t have copped to the back problem. Suddenly, there was a big watery spotlight on me. “DON’T ARCH YOUR BACK!” Brunhilde-In-a-Bathing-Suit scolded. “POINT YOUR PELVIS INWARD!” “KEEP YOUR CHEST OPEN AND YOUR NECK LONG, LKE YOU’RE A BIG SNOB!” Then there was the ultimate: “PRETEND YOU’RE WEARING A DIAMOND NECKLACE! SHOW IT OFF.”
I showed it off, alright. I was 6 feet tall, standing in 3 feet of water! I was Esther Williams, my posture was so great.
But today? PAIN, PAIN, PAIN. My tush is killing me and my legs are like rubber. I had to console myself by eating enough Dim Sum to build a new Great Wall of China. And now, I am off to the bathtub where I will soak until I can once again stand upright.