I must have put rocket boosters on my sneakers because I walked the 14 blocks to the studio in record time. There were a lot of crazies out earlier today, scavenging bins and screaming at threats only they could see. Scarier still was the handful of hungover souls doing the walk of shame. No judgment.
The instructor we had this morning remembered me from a previous class, which I thought was really nice. She took us through the usual bendy-stretchy routines on the tower, swapping springs and straps and all manner of tools designed to strengthen and lengthen our muscles.
But the total kicker for me came when we had to lay on our backs, keeping our legs straight and our thighs and feet together. Using our abdominals we had to raise and lower our legs as much as we could. Sounds easy but it's a bit of a killer, trust me.
The instructor told us to squeeze our thighs together, and pretend we had a piece of paper in between them that we didn't want to lose. Coming over to check that I was maintaining neutral pelvis (not as kinky as it sounds), the instructor said, "keep your thighs together - don't let anything get between your thighs!". I snort-laughed; it was like all the nuns from high school were back in the room again!
The instructor just smiled and I kept leg-lifting. That imaginary piece of paper didn't budge.