After three days of
utter isolation ice and snow, my roommate's dear mother took pity and offered to come pick us up and take us to the Y for a kickboxing class. (I still had to Find My Zen, because I was seized by utter panic at the thought that icy roads = certain death.)
|Find It Here!|
|That's me on the left...not.|
Actually, the choreography wasn't too difficult, I'm just lazy. There's only so many times someone can shout "HIGH KNEES! GET.THEM.UP.THERE!" Before I get tired, cross my arms and start to pout. I missed Bethenny, making fun of herself and telling us she was going to "call India" because humble warrior is more accurately described as "boob to knee pose".
Plus, kickboxing is just more fun when you have an ex-boyfriend's face in mind to really give that uppercut some power. Unfortunately for my martial arts skills, I'm pretty Zen in that area right now as well.
So, considering I'm exhausted, hungry, and slightly dehydrated, I think I'll leave the kickboxing for those girls next to me that were doing jumping jacks like 5 feet in the air. (Seriously, though, how does anyone jump that high? It's not normal. Their butts jiggled a lot though, which gave me some small satisfaction.) I'll take some Bethanny or a walk to Freedom Park any day of the week. Namaste to that!