The Barre on a Friday Night.

Yes, I'm posting on a Saturday.

I know, I know.
NO ONE reads blogs on the weekend.
And I think I'm breaking some sort of super secret blog-writer pact.

But I had to tell you something very important.

I DID NOT DIE YESTERDAY.

I am here ALIVE....barely moving...but still....
At least there is breath coming in and out of my lungs so that means I'm alive and the world can rejoice. Because you almost lost me to a girl name SaNdeE* and her ballet barre.

Ok, that's not her real name.
But she was exactly like Sarah Jessica Parker from the movie LA Story.
She was little and perky and liked to simultaneously jump and spin around me while yelling ISN'T THISSSSSSSS FUN?!!!!

SaNdeE* is the instructor of a "cardio ballet" class.

Look, I used to take ballet back in the day.  How hard could this class be?
In my head, it was going to be like this:

Well, that was the rest of the class.

I was going to be like this, of course:

I was super excited.
I pictured calm, soft music wafting through the air.
A teacher with a delicate voice telling us to Plié in second position. 
The cardio part?  
Probably some leg extensions or something.  
This is brilliant.  What a great way to ease back into some cardio.  
I should have thought of this class months ago!  

I made a mental note not to forget to call my mom afterwards to invite her to my recital.

So I get to the class and there are only 4 girls, including me.
I immediately labeled them:
High school girl, high school girl's mom, me, and Kim Kardashian.

Then SanDeE* comes breezing in.
IS EVERYONE READY?! (jump, spin, twirl)
HAS ANYONE DONE A CARDIO BALLET CLASS BEFORE? (pirouette, side bend, leap).  

We all murmured no.

And then it began.
Honestly?  It started off FANTASTIC.

I was all: "Wow!  How fun is this?! I can do this. And one...and two...and...I'm reaching...I'm reaching....up-to-the-sky...and one...and two..."

Then SanDeE* announced the warm-up was over.

Um.

I'm not going to go into detail about the next 55 minutes of class.
One word pretty much sums it up:
Suicidal.
Also, SanDeE* hates it when you suggest a "rest break".

At one point, when I was laying on the ballet barre, crying, I peeked at my fellow classmates.

Kim Kardashian's mascara was running down her face.
High School girl's mom needed an oxygen chamber.
High School girl?  Was smiling and kept saying things like "Am I doing this correctly? It barely burns! Is there a more challenging way I should do this?"

I told her yes.  All she has to do is age 19 more years and have two kids.