Stretch-n-Retch

Yoga kicked my ass yesterday.

Technically, it wasn't yoga - it was some Pilates/Yoga/aerobic merger whose sole intent is to exhaust energy, cause pain and remind me to "keep breathing." Because, y'know, if you're not breathing properly, all of your exercise will be for naught. I would've loved to breathe. But the best way to make sure I was breathing properly was to stop the activity. While my body is bent in half and contorted sideways, it's hard to collect oxygen in my compromised lungs. Frankly, there were multiple occasions/positions where I'd've been perfectly happy if I stopped breathing and passed out.

As I struggled to lift my arms after the workout, it dawned on me how I play so many sports and yet my arms never get tired doing those. Which means these drills are forcing me to use muscles I don't use otherwise. What's the point? Will these help me chuck a disc golf drive farther? I don't need to launch basketball bricks harder than I do; touch is far more important. So why am I strengthening these areas if the only thing they do is hurt after I strengthen them? I'm missing the point. And it's not like I had much motivation to begin with.

I've also determined that my core is weak. At the middle of this Tootsie Pop is not a chocolate center; it's more like a rice cake. Brittle and fragile. One option is to increase the regularity of workouts to build my core into some rock-hard foundation of my being. Methinks I'll chose the alternative: layer on the insulation, so my core never gets exposed. My core should get stronger simply from carrying around the excess blubber, no? There's a workout _and_ a diet regimen I could support!

One thing all workout videos should include is a countdown clock. Don't tell me "Three more, two more, one more," then proceed directly into the next motion. That's crap. Put a digital timer in a corner of the screen, so I know I've got 11:42 before I can turn off the television and collapse (not necessarily in that order). I don't care where I'm at - I want to know how far away the finish line is. Someone get on that.

Lastly, I tried to determine what makes an exercise video watchable. Sure, well-structured women in spandex is a good start. (For those of you who'd call me sexist, consider the alternative - fat dudes in sweats?) Add some surreal techno crap music with beats for lunges, crunches, and downward dogs. But how do they decide the leader? Is it the one person who can talk through it without huffing? Are there B-movie caliber workout tapes? What makes one more inspiring to complete than another? Celebrity? Skin? Both? How many physical therapist/actresses are there who aspire to someday be the next workout video queen? Is that something young girls want? "When I grow up, I want to be a princess/ballerina/Denise Austin."