Oh. My. God.
Kettlebell class...so hard.
They had 10, 15, and 20 pound Kettlebells. I picked up a 15-pounder...then put it down and picked up the 10-pound. Didn't even glance at the 20 pound weight. (Although I'm pretty sure the Hubster picked one up, then put it back and took at 15-pounder.)
Trainer Dan demonstrated some of the moves while I watched with wide eyes, shaking my head. Trainer Dan is obviously insane.
Seriously? He squatted with the weight hanging between his legs, then swung it forward, up over his head. He did WHAT? You heard me.
He sat on the ground, holding the kettlebell at his chest with his elbows out, rolled down onto his back, then shot up, raising the the weight above his head. The girl across the room from me burst out laughing at the dirty look I gave Trainer Dan.
Then the fun started. A quick warm-up with some marching, some squats, some dead-lifts. And then we picked up the weights.
Oh. My. God.
I was sweating almost immediately. And not pretty droplets on my forehead or gee, my shirt's a little wet sweating...bright red, hey look at me, I'm sweating! kind of sweating.
But I squatted. And I tilted. And I swung that damn weight. I even did the sadistic sit-ups.
Trainer Dan said that one 30 minute class can burn as many calories as an hour of Turbo Kick. Hmmm. Makes me think.
Would I do it again? Yes. Would I pay $70 for 7 weeks of once-a-week classes? Probably not?
The best part about my YMCA is that all the stuff--the track, the studios, the weights, everything--is upstairs. So at the end of my workout, when I think I'm about to die, I still have to walk down those stairs and pick up Little Sister. Tonight, I made it down two steps. Maybe. And then I grasped the railing and said, "Oh. My. God. I'm not going to make it down these stairs."
A lady coming up the steps laughed and said, "Did you just do Turbo Kick? I went to my first class last week and felt just like that!"
I laughed and told her that I do that, too. But not tonight. Oh no, that's tomorrow. If I live that long.