…and I had 60 minutes of cardio, strength training and evil thoughts.

(Warning : If you enjoy thinking of me as “that sweet MommaK”,
please do not read this post.)

In my jazzercise class, there is a student who recently became an instructor. She teaches a few night classes so I rarely run into her in the mornings. This is a good thing.

As a student, she was loud, annoying and always trying to one-up the instructor, especially if a mistake was made. She would often do routines “her way” (which she claimed was the right way) instead of following along with the class. This would totally throw off anyone behind her and usually fluster the instructor as well. Charming, right?

She and I have exchanged words as well as competitive eye daggers across the floor but it was nothing I couldn’t handle. Nothing, that is, until she started teaching one of the morning classes that I attend.

This morning as I pulled into the parking lot I cursed out loud when I saw her car in the instructor’s spot.

F&@K!!! S#$T!! F&@K!! I hate her!!

Oh damn well, I’m already here. I guess I’ll go and get my workout in while my nerves are being grated.

During the warm-up, the screaming began. (Personally, I feel that a warm-up is like your first cup of coffee. You need peace and time to ease into it all and get the muscles warm -hence the term “warm-up” At this point, I am not ready to whoop and yell or communicate with the instructor. Please stop shouting at me!!!

“I haven’t seen you in a while, K”, she bellowed down to me.

“I’m not chatty. Leave me alone. We can’t stand each other, remember???“, I thought with a smirk on my face and my middle finger exposed to her on my outstretched leg. She didn’t catch the slight gesture but it sure made me feel better. Just slightly passive-aggressive, aren’t I?

As the routines went on, she constantly screwed up but acted like she was too cool for school. She barely gave us cues at all and when she did they were late and screeched into the headset so loud that we had no idea what she was shouting. And then she wanted to us to scream and sing along with her. Nooooooo!!!

One of the routines included the basic Charleston step. She asked the class if they knew it. When no one spoke up she said,

“Oh come on! I’m the youngest one here so if I know it, you guys have to know it!” (let me tell you, this is not a good tactic with the 40+ crowd – MEOW)

One of the ladies near me turned her head and snickered.

“Youngest???“, I thought. “We’re the same age so she must be talking months – not years. Whatever. I’m the thinner one any day of the week. She can be the younger one.”

After 35 minutes of cardio mayhem, we moved to our mats and picked up our weights. She told us that she had 2 arm routines prepared for today and warned us to get ready “for the pain”. Oh P-L-E-A-S-E!

The first one was a cinch and even though she didn’t know it very well, we all did a marvelous job of following her butchery. As the second routine began, she looked over in my direction and suggested that we “might want to use lighter weights for this one because it is sooooooo tough”. Bring it, Piggy. I’m not flinching.

And I didn’t. She picked up her lighter weights – I didn’t.

As I masked my pain and kept the “hot shit” look on my face I spied her arms shaking. HA!

I glanced up and saw a look of utter disgust spread across her face. Ditto chica.

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