After catching up on buckets of sleep over the weekend, I woke up on Monday morning raring to go.
Hubby and I were both headed to our Racquet Club – me for Cardio Tennis, he for a private lesson – but since I’d already committed to meeting a friend at Gold’s Gym afterward for yet another class, we decided to take separate cars.
I take Cardio Tennis classes a lot, and I generally really love them. Well, maybe “love” is a little over-the-top. I like them, I get a great workout, and if I really apply myself, I improve my shots while burning calories.
You’re fed the ball, though, in Cardio Tennis, so you can’t really move the needle on your serve. And I, for one, desperately need to move the needle on my serve.
Right now, there is a passing-of-the-torch thing going on at my Club; the current Cardio Tennis teacher is wicked over it, so he’s moving on to private lessons and the night time clinics, and making his Number 2 take over Cardio and run us ragged.
The good news: Number 2 is adorable, and super-cool, and teaches the Wee Lass and the other tots and tot-lettes. So I know him already.
The bad news: Number 2 is a killah in Cardio Tennis. Oh my lordy, he is soooo not effing around.
Of course, since this is the first time Number 2 led the class, I didn’t know what I was in for. But here’s what I did know: There were only two of us who showed up. Trust me – you don’t want to partake in a Cardio Tennis class with just two members, because you will not have one second to stop and catch your breath.
You’re running, you’re hitting, you’re running, you’re hitting, you’re picking up balls, you’re running, you’re hitting. It’s endless.
To make matters worse, my other classmate – a toughie if ever there was one – hit me so hard with a ball I almost doubled over. And now, some 30 hours later, there’s a bruise the size of Texas on my right thigh. Grrrr…
If I were smart, which I’m obviously not, I would have gone straight home after Cardio Tennis. Instead, I pushed myself to keep my gym date with my pal and slogged through a really tough class.
I’m really not class-y, by nature. At least not indoor class-y. Cardio Tennis is a class, but maybe because it’s outdoors it just feels a little more free-range.
Anyway, until I just looked it up on the Gold’s Gym schedule, I thought what I’d taken was Core Training. But as it turns out it was something called “Perfect Tens.”
Here’s the description:
Total body training workout, in sets of ten, often using only your body for resistance
Well, whatever it was, I just wasn’t up for it. And I – stupidly – didn’t bring my water bottle into the gym with me. Midway through the class, I came this.close to full-on barfing.
Can you imagine??? I’d be banned for life!
An hour and change later, I left the gym. And I haven’t felt right since. I’ve had a raging headache, almost non-stop, and I just feel crummy, crummy, crummy.
I don’t know why I’m telling you all this; I know it’s a big ol’ bummer. But I think there’s a mini moral here, something to be gleaned from my suffering:
Know your limits. If you’re feeling dodgy mid-way through your workout and you’re pushing yourself for no good reason, Just Don’t Do It.