PiYo? Is that like GoGurt?

The MedGirls and I started noticed a little pudge around the edges that may or may not have accumulated from many long, sobbing nights filled with Double Stuf Oreos and Grey's Anatomy reruns (and bitching about neuroanatomy). So we got this Grand Idea that we should buy fitness passes for the local university's exercise classes. We have free access to their regular workout facilities, but we didn't regularly go because "we're tired" and "we're lazy busy". We decided that a little peer pressure and some slightly-fun classes would encourage us to be healthier.

Round 1: Zumba
So, I'd seen signs around the Big City advertising Zumba, and I had an idea it was dance-y exercise, but I really had no clue what it was. No one wanted to go to kickboxing with me (I wanted to release my inner Chuck Norris), so I was coerced into trying Zumba. We walked into a humid, piping-hot room packed with women from sorority girls to grandmothers, all wearing some sort of brightly colored spandex.

A buxom, 18 year old perky-ass cheerleader bounced to the front of this tiny room and hit play on the boombox... and this is where things start to get cloudy. Suddenly, I was shaking my bum and "popping" my shoulders and shaking The Boobies like I've never done in front of another person ever. I felt like a stomping rhinoceros.

The class was physically challenging, in addition to the prancing around for heart rate's sake. I was pleasantly surprised at the mild amount of fun I had, but this class kicked my butt. And, holy shit, I felt like such a doofus. NEXT.

Round 2: Abs/Cardio
How bad could this be? A little cardio something-or-another and some abs. WRONG. This was death. There was running (ew), sprinting, stretching, high-knees, butt-kicks, backwards runs, and the Holy Mother of all Sucky Exercise.... Indian Runs. It felt like high school two-a-days with an extra 20-pound vest on. Oh, the horror. I might go back next week, though, because the instructor-man was beautiful. Half my age (and Nazi-esque), but beautiful.

Round 3: PiYo
"Ok, what the hell is PiYo?" was all I had to say. The Girls started bouncing with excitement at the thought of combining both pilates and yoga. In all seriousness, I thought they were the same thing. Apparently not. Something or another came up, so I couldn't go to the guinea pig trial run of this class, but The Girls came back with rave reviews from their trial run. I heard a lot of "It's so RELAXING" and "I can't WAIT for next week!".. so I agreed to come along next time. Those girls are full of doodie.

They turned off the lights and had us stretching and turning and rolling back and forth in fetal position. Frankly, that all felt pretty awesome. Then she came up with some idea like chattarunga or something. My hands were sliding out from under me when my weak little arms couldn't support my weight, and I couldn't even fake like I was doing this. I just laid on my stomach until all the non-fat people were done, and I continued from there.

Maybe this is like the first time I tried Starbucks, where I was intimidated by the "culture" and jargon, but I just think this is wayyyy to new-age-y for moi. I'd rather suffer under the wrath of the sexy ab-master or shake my booty for the perky cheerleader than have to lie on the floor, unable to even pretend to be exercising.

Hopefully I can talk one of them into going with me to the kickboxing thing. I think punching and kicking would be a great outlet for stress. More so than that "chattarunga" garbage.