I HATE EXERCISE CLASS

Don't you hate exercise class? How could anyone like it. At my age, I think I should have the inalienable right to loll around the house in my old bathrobe in the morning, drinking coffee and eating a bearclaw or a snack of cold pizza. Instead I have to put on exercise togs and drive to the Y, dreading every minute of it. Why do I do this? Mainly because the out of town children demand it. Even some friends who are hooked on Pilates (whatever that is) or Yoga suggest tactfully that I should keep up with this thing at the Y.

I am the oldest person in the class but that doesn't dissuade the teacher. She is an incredibly slim young thing with great dance moves and energy that just won't quit. The main movement is marching--knees up and arms swinging , just like a marching band from Music Man. This goes on for fifty minutes, with the addition of some hand weights and stretchy bands. I watch the clock on the wall, and by the time 25 minutes goes by, I am about to call it quits. But most of the time I carry on, because I've come that far in misery. When it's over, I can hardly walk and have to fall on my bed at home. How can this be good for anybody?

Sometimes I don't go, but say that I did. But DONT TELL THE CHILDREN.