My Workout with Betty White

This photo is from a terrific class at a gym in CT - not the class that I took this morning. 

Let me just preface this by saying that I do workout regularly – but not usually before 8 AM and not usually with other people. This, my friends, is a workout fail.

(I overuse parentheses.)

I wake up, roll out of bed and make it to my first gym class at New York Sports Club this morning – bright and spankin’ early. I fill out an info card for the third time because (surprise, surprise) the new client manager made his fourth incompetent move. But I did go. And upon entering the classroom (on the 5^th floor? Is that for real? I don’t want a workout before my workout, folks) I notice Betty White. Or at least her twin. And I’m all, “Betty will NOT be showing me up in this class”. But halfway through our 12^th squat repetition, as the instructor is reminding me that I should have my bum over my ankles (what?), I notice that Betty is killing this routine. I look like I'm doing my own version of the Country Bear Jamboree while this 90-year-old woman rocks it like Beyonce. Is that fair? No. Am I impressed and slightly intimidated? Yes.

So I'm doing okay until the abdominal reps at the end. Mostly I’m trying not to laugh (because, let’s face it, what’s funnier than watching women stick their legs in the air with hands under their bums, all in unison, while 90’s music blasts in the background? Nothing, that’s what) but I’m also thinking about how badly I’m going to be hurting afterward. As soon as class ends, I get a whopper of a stomachache that continues throughout the day. Walking anywhere was impossible without looking as if I needed some kind of ambulatory assistance. A cane maybe. It was the opposite of cute.

Then (and I’m almost positive that there is a correlation) my office was freezing. I think I used up all of my bodily heat while working out, because I had to turn to a space heater. Yes – I used a space heater in June. I was pretty excited to find it near my desk (clearly the last occupant had the same problem), so I got right down on the floor and set that baby up. Only to find that it made a noise akin to a death rattle. And I was/am a little afraid that it’s going to melt my shoes. WORTH IT.

Moral of the story: don’t work out at 6:30 AM with Betty White. The end does not justify the means. 

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