So the tirade of sisterly nonsense continues…
After Monday’s Chelsea excitement we spent the rest of the week hard at work (me) and laying by the pool reading (MT). I felt a little guilty that she was spending so much of her vacay time alone, but reminded myself that alone by the pool in CA is probably a lot cooler than alone at home in OH.
In an attempt to right my daily absence, I dragged MT along to a Spinning class that’s offered at my apartment gym. I’m a big fan of Spinning, being the cardio masochist that I am, and figured MT would enjoy it as well. If you’re not familiar, it’s an hour-long class on stationary “racing” bikes, led by an instructor who is typically over-excited and energetic, yelling and screaming at you to “go faster!” and “pedal harder!” over booming upbeat dance music until you sweat your last 10 meals into a puddle under your bike.
Sounds fun, right??
MT didn’t think so either.
Despite our incredibly sore butts (those spin seats are NOT very padded y’all), we hit up the yoga class offered the following day. We had mixed thoughts about it – “could be fun…?”, “most likely to embarass ourselves”, “can’t be worse than Spinning” (MT), “I hate people knowing I’m ‘The New Girl'” (me). We dressed in what we could only guess people wore to yoga, and got ready to walk out the door. I looked at MT and she looked at me, and we both started dying laughing. I headed to my room to change into an outfit that did not IDENTICALLY MATCH my almost-twin sister’s, and then we were off.
We made the short walk to the studio, and were immediately intimidated by the large group of spandex-clad individuals, all chatting away like they were life-long friends and toting their own yoga mats. I drummed up some courage and walked up to a (semi)pleasant looking blonde girl, and blurted :
“Uhhh do we need one of those? Our own mat? Or are there like, ones that we can borrow??” [nervous laugh]
[glances at yoga-master friends] “No, there aren’t. [pause] But some people use a towel…” [turns back to friends mid-sentence]
As we walked back to the apartment, hurrying to get towels so we wouldn’t be late for our first-ever yoga class with the first-rate snobs :
Me : “Yeah, we can just grab a couple beach towels and then head back down”
MT : “Yeah”
Me : “…Or we could just not go back”
MT : “Wanna go get on the treadmill?”
So my social awkwardness prevailed again. As a side note, we did end up going to Target and purchasing two $9 yoga mats, went to a class the following week, and really enjoyed it. The instructor was super goofy, but made us do cool stuff like headstands on our elbows and holding one foot in the air behind your head like a figure skater. He also called me out for being a former dancer (ha! 15 years ago!) and MT for her tremendous head-standing skills. I’ve since incorporated twice-weekly yoga into my normal workout routine, and am thrilled (already) with the positive changes it’s making to my flexibility and form.
Now if only I could figure out exactly what he means when he says “Relax your face”, I’ll be a true yogi…
And also, I haven’t seen the snobby blonde again. Too bad, I’d really like to rub my superb “dancer’s pose” in her snooty little face.