When Granny Bashers Attack

I went to the acqua-cise class yesterday under many, many misconceptions.

Like, I'll probably be the youngest one there. Not. I would say at least five of the twenty five women there were close to my age.

Like, how hard can it be? Um. The class was 45 minutes long and I seriously considered leaving about half way through it. Only one woman, who had to be in her 90s, left before me. There was another 30 min. class directly after the one I was in and most of the women stayed for that.

Like, how much good can it do? Apparently, it does some good. When I woke up this morning, my torso was a little sore and achy, but nothing like it would have been following an exercise class on dry land. My feet don't hurt at all.

I especially enjoyed the boxing moves. I think I want to beat the stuffing out of an inanimate object. I think I need to do this.

I picked up a few tips about general logistics - for example, the downstairs locker room is a swamp. I'll use the upstairs one from now on and must somehow find a way to hide my swimsuit clad body from the unsuspecting public.

I loved that I didn't have to worry about what was shaved and what was not. I was also grateful that people couldn't see how clumsy and unco-ordinated I am.

Another thing I learned (but don't care about) is that my swimsuit is the wrong size. The unfilled cups tend to ride up and before I know it my would-be boobs are up around my neck. I should have ordered the "long" size.

For amusement, if I go tomorrow, I may try to wear the Speedo that tried to kill me. Stay tuned.

Oh, and props to Jammie for talking about her water walking class. That's what inspired me to give this a go. Good on ya, Jams.