Anyways, I did. And there was another new teacher. This one is a super intense pilates instructor. Finally! This may be a class where I'm not the one flailing wildly, demanding all of the instructor's attention! Because, what I lack in flexibility, I make up for in strength. I'm one of the only people in the class who can do a push-up.
Yep. One push-up puts me in the above-average category for strength. So pilates class, here I come!
Ohhhhhh I should have known it wasn't going to be that great. While the instructor may have been impressed with my push up, she was not impressed with the muscle tone in my butt. She made sure I understood this by repeatedly pinching my butt as we did infinity leg-raises. Alright already! I get it! You don't like that I have an extra layer (or five) of padding on my behind.
So I left class, once again feeling slightly deflated. Then, while changing in the locker room, one of the girls from class turns to me and says, "Hi! Are you liking the yoga? Because I think, yes, it's helping you! I saw you last week, no two week ago, and today I was looking at you from the back. Your butt, well, it is still big, but I think that your arms are smaller!"
Oh jeez. My Butt : The Conversation Starter.
That was all the motivation I need to stick to my running schedule. At least when I run, no one's pinching me (yet). And old men working at the Samsung factory like to clap for me, and throw the occasional 'thumbs-up'.
Ouch! A little less blatant honesty, perhaps, might decrease the need for Prozac in that culture. Tough to be statuesque in a culture of No-Butt Twigs. At least the old men at the Samsung factory aren't pinching your butt. But hey, I think that you are perfect.
ReplyDeleteExcuse me while I work on my push-ups.