One on One with Candy

Today I went to the YMCA to do some weights and try a core power class that uses those great big balls you sit on. I'm pretty sure there's a good chance of losing/and or falling off the ball, so my game plan is to stay in the back, out of sight and as far away from the instructor as possible. I'm sure Candy is a nice person, but I've done a few of her classes before and I think there's a slightly sadistic tendency beneath the blond, bubbly, bouncy persona. Being in one of those classes is the closest I've ever come to boot camp. Candy would have made an excellent drill sergeant. Did I mention she's eight months pregnant with her 4th child?

So I head up the steps to the gym, where I am greeted by Candy who directs me to get a ball and a mat. And there is NO... ONE... ELSE. Me. Candy. The Ball. GULP. I persist though, and as we warm up Candy confesses she has had people leave when they are the only ones in the class. So we are chatting and I'm thinking this won't be so bad-then we begin...that was only the warm-up. Picture standing with your back holding the ball to the wall, doing squats up and down, then holding the down position keeping your arms out and your feet out so when you squat down its like sitting in a chair only there's no chair. That was just one of many things we did, others were push-ups and plank positions using the ball. Thankfully it was just a 30 minute class, her others are an hour. As I headed out the door I was thankful I would walk comfortably. Then I proceeded down the stairs where my legs started shaking, my quads started quivering, I dissolved into pile of glutenous jello.