80s aerobics torture

Oh my god...I had no idea what I was letting myself in for last night! The word aerobics conjures up images of ladies with fluffy perms bopping around to music. I went along with the incredibly stupid notion that two hours of pissing round on skates every week makes me anywhere near fit. I even had the cheek to look down my nose at the sleek-tummied aerobics bunnies because I'm a rollergirl! How wrong was I? I mean, we work hard, but we also have water-breaks and drills where some of us get to sit and stretch. We don't spend the whole two hours skating hell-for-leather round the edge of the sports hall til we're on the verge of collapse. Because that's pretty much the equivalent of 80s aerobics!

I totally underestimated how much coordination I'd need, and to begin with I just pranced around at the back of the class trying to do a good impression of keeping up. It wasn't the greatest place to hide...not when I was laughing like a donkey, and especially not when the front of the room was completely mirrored. I grape-vined over a few people's feet, almost took Ouija Broad's eye out on a few occasions and at one point the wall (the metaphorical 'wall'...I'm not that uncoordinated) hit me straight in the face and my feet wouldn't come off the floor anymore, but powerade has life-saving abilities...especially when administered in HUGE doses. I got a second wind from somewhere, but the warm-down couldn't come fast enough for me.

I was disappointed that no one apart from the instructor seems to dress up...I'm going to have to dress up in a non-dressing-up kind of way. I have no idea how I'm going to do this without looking like an idiot, but then again, if I'm willing to walk around a nice family pub dressed in my practice outfit then an aerobics class should be no problem. I make myself look like enough of an idiot as it is with my dodgy moves, lack of concentration and neon pink face, so to be honest my clothes are probably the least of my worries!

Despite thinking 'what the hell am I doing?' many MANY times during the session, it was only 45 minutes, and it'll be easier next time. I hope. Also, I felt brilliant afterwards and it may even encourage me to join the gym...or run...or walk the dog further than the post office (where the chocolate and tattoo mags are). I've put my name down for next week and there's no backing out now :/

And it's only two days til the LRG Bout! Our minibus is packed...the ride down's going to be as much fun as watching Team Black and Team Pink kick each other's asses! I still haven't decided who to cheer for yet. Last bout I supported team Black, but now I've kind of got a thing for pink so it might have to be Team Pink afterall...gah, decisions decisions...