Committed (Part 1) was posted earlier today if you want to check it out.
Sometimes a day gets in the way
Of writing in the moment.
On this day when I got to go all out on kind of burpees,
I had hoped that I would write just after
My first glam HIIT class.
Instead, there were emails,
Uniforms to collect,
Answering of delicate questions like what I think about
Abortion and Trump and
The lighter and infinitely more personal,
“Do you like tacos with chorizo?”
“Is there any other way?”
A good answer, I thought.
But back to being committed,
This morning was, “committed” in the sense of a mental institution,
Crazy, deranged, insane,
All terms that might be assigned to people waking and
Doing a class of high intensity interval training.
Come on, admit it, swimming, running, lifting,
Those don’t sound so bad in the early morning hours
Before the sun rises.
Tabata, lunges, burpees, and push-ups until your arms wear out?
So there I was, on a Friday in the dark,
Getting ready to run a few less miles (see what I did there)
In a gym with about ten or twelve others,
All women and almost all older than my half plus century (or so).
Why? Why was I there?
Because despite my gruff exterior, absence of caring for most stuff, and
Frequent self-absorption, I can support a friend
On a quest to make a change.
Besides, misery and company is one thing,
Suffering, bitching, and laughing is how we roll. Bad student alert!!
(Of which I am, go read Committed (Part 1) for elaboration).
Momma said, “Be careful what you say,”
So I’ll leave commentary about class alone,
Let it be known, though, that I sweated a lot, got my heart rate up, and
Became the insolent little snit that succeeded in high school,
Made it through college a few times, and now feels free to offer commentary
On whatever bullshit hypocrisy exists
When people try to teach me something… Too duchy?
Then again, it’s also fun
Trying to figure out if Buffett, Nine Inch Nails, and the Little River Band
Can be put on a station called Yacht Rock.
Some would argue that Bob Marley would have to be included,
But I’d nix that and suggest the reggae contribution come from Tosh or Isaacs.
Maybe Committed Rock would be better…
Still though, after such an intense class, the craziness running through our veins
Led to visions of angry roosters attacking giant fathers with their young offspring,
Dogs with more bite than bark, and 100,000 maniacs camping on a plantation.
Sounds like another band for the committed rock station.
I’m not too sure what happened between deciding to go to class and its end,
A few things were reaffirmed,
Somehow I know the words to that pump up the jam song,
I’m not a fan of choreographed fitness classes, and
I have some good friends.
One of them who is in fitness-favor dire straits this summer. (Sinister laughing…)
How about that, another band for the station.