DAY TWO

Since I didn’t lean three pounds off the day before, I decide to try Aerobics.  Little Brii looks sufficiently rested, so I decide we’re going to do some hula hooping.  By hula hooping I mean I’m standing on the balance board swinging my hips around sans hula hoop while Little Brii is racking up the points on the TV screen.  After about three minutes the two hula hoops I’m spinning around my animated waist start to slow and wobble so I attempt to make a comeback by awkwardly squatting and humping the air to the front right-ish area.  But I can’t get them back up.  I actually feel like I might be working some oblique muscles so I go for round two.  Four minutes in and I’ve got three hoops on, my arms are extended up in the air, hips swinging wide, knees slightly bent—the form of a goddamn champion.  Little Brii is killin’ it…all is well, and then suddenly out of the corner of my eye I see my cat wander in from the kitchen.  I immediately stop because yes, I am embarrassed.  I am embarrassed that my cat just saw me fake hula hooping in front of the television.  To make myself feel better I sit on the floor with him and scratch his head while also gently giving him a verbal reminder that my mom shaves him regularly so he won’t bring leaves in from outside and that he looks like the pussy of the feline world…no pun intended. 

After verbally abusing my cat, I decide to give some more Aerobics a try.  I am like…somewhat perspiring?  From hula hooping or shame, I can’t be certain, but I think there are the beginning signs of moisture gathered at my brow.  I select Basic Run on the screen and am blue skadoo’d into a lovely scenic park where roundish Wii people walk roundish Wii dogs.  It’s a beautiful day—I can tell because the Wii people are wearing Tii shirts (still find that hilarious…).  I am relieved to hear that I don’t have to run ON the balance board because that would just be…awkward.  So I start jogging…in place…which is just as awkward.  I soon discover that the faster you shake your arm, the faster Little Brii runs—which allows for me to go make a sandwich and sit there and eat it with one hand and shake my remote in the other.  My gosh I’m just exhausted. 


I decide to give one last aerobics activity a try just to see if I can get one droplet of sweat to form on my face.  Rhythm Boxing seems like a good choice.  I've taken kickboxing classes before and got so obsessed with them that I developed intense shin splints from all the bouncing and jumping and..well, kicking.  I'm curious to see how rusty I am in this department.  Sven stands in front of me transparently holding two arm pads that I'm supposed to punch in a rhythmic matter.  I find myself wondering if this is how Muhammed Ali got his start.  The punching is great and all, but it get's deathly boring after about 45 seconds and i'm supposed to be punching at a snail's pace when all I really want to do is unleash a roundhouse on Sven.  I'm completely over it.