11 September, 2009
24 Hours of Heaving for Entirely Different Reasons
Hovered over a public toilet dry heaving only moments before you are about to teach a class is no way to start the day. But, alas. That is just how it began today, and it was a position I haven't found myself in in quite some time. The more horrible part is that I have been uber-hungover many times at school, and many times much, much worse than today. But it's been so long since I have been (um...2 months...), my tolerance for alcohol and hangover has plummeted, and my body has completely forgotten the interpretive dance known as A Hangover. Thus, it resorts back to what it did at the beginning of my career with alcohol, and that is LOTS of dry heaving.
SO, yesterday, before all this hangover business or the drinking that lead to it happened, my friend Nora told me about these fitness classes they give in the stadium in Rincon for $1. I've been looking for some sort of activity that would allow me to mingle amongst the citizens of my new community, and this seems like just the ticket. A $1 ticket.
FIRST, we arrive late and as I am putting down my mat, I look up and notice the instructor dude is a bartender at one of the resorts in Rincon. GO FIGURE. I don't know why this was shocking to me, but it was. Perhaps he doesn't remember me or any of my drunken escapes he has had the misfortune of witnessing, I think to myself. No such luck. He grins and knee-bend- kicks on over to let me know, and I quote, " Now I'm going to make you sweat out everything you drank, and you'll remember me tomorrow". Ummmm, YIKES! I look up from my mat in fear and he takes the dollar from my trembling hand.
UNO! DOS! TRES! AGAIN! is what I hear Mr. Muscle screaming over the Special Edition Ricky Martin Jock Jams CD blasting in the background. Aerobics in Puerto Rico is something else. It was part aerobics and part 80's dance moves, except with more hip action. A Puerto Rican variation of both the running man and the Super Bowl Shuffle were some memorable ones that took place. About 10 minutes in, I'm sweating balls and by the end of the hour the only way I can gather the strength to do one more leg kick is if it was into Mr. Muscle's face.
In conclusion, I CERTAINLY got my dollars worth. And on my drive into school today I saw Mr. Muscle biking down the road, and as I cruised on past I honked my horn and threw out my hand to wave --- just so he knew I remembered him :)