So. With my brand-spankin’ new gym membership, I joined Rella for a somewhat-early Kickboxing Cardio class this morning.
Let me just say that I was sending up prayers, because I was pretty damned sure I was about to expire. Messily.
Well, okay, maybe it wasn’t quite that bad. (Almost, but not quite.) But it was definitely a good workout. At least 500 cals burned, which was excellent. It also reminded me just how unco-ordinated I am–I was having trouble keeping up in some instances. However, to give myself a little credit, it *was* my first class.
The best part, however, was the studly instructor. I didn’t get a nice, close-up look at him, because I closeted myself at the back of the full room, but from afar, he looks pretty tasty. He *really* piqued my interest during the cooldown portion of the class — we’re all lying on exercise mats, stretching this, that, and the other part, and as the music slows down, his voice lowers. I’m talkin’ late-night-phone-sex low. Give-me-shivers low. So I’m stretching my calf muscles with my eyes closed, listening to him rumbling, “Hold it, and hold it, one more second…release.” And I’m a-thinkin’, “yep, throw in an ‘oh, baby’, and you’ve got me.”
I guess I’m not the only one who feels this way — while Rella and I did laps around the track as a post-class cooldown, we watching Mr. Hottie Kickboxer get swarmed by chicks from the class, all looking for some attention. Heh.
And me? Well, I have no plans to go strike up a conversation looking like something that the cat dragged in through a puddle.
We’ll see what happens tonight, though, when Rella, another friend, and I go out for the evening. Will report back on any interesting events.