I am not a Bendy Straw

I am not a Bendy Straw. Sure My Fair Lady can drag me to Yoga class and complain that I can do the Down Dog position while she struggles at it, ignoring the fact that I make her laugh by quietly barking whenever the instructor says, "... and then move into Down Dog."

I no longer scorn the people who are Yoga fanatics because an hour of stretching your body is surprisingly stressful. You don't realize just how out of shape you are until you're told to go through four Yoga positions in a row and you realize by the second one that you can't feel your leg. I'm skinny by nature but that doesn't mean I'm in perfect shape.

As I started looking that first great hurdle of 30 in the eye, I realized that I better whip the body into shape or else my heart would pull an Alien on me by 35. Thus, My Fair Lady picked up a great deal for 24-Hour Fitness (Massacre) through her company and she's making sure the two of us are using it. Try going on little to no exercise for a few years then sit down and ride a stationary bike for a 30 minute cardio workout and you'll know pain. Try a 15-minute ab workout after years of abusing your stomach with Jack in the Box and you'll know embarrassment.

I will soon attain a sleeker and more muscular look though if only through sheer determination. So many people around me seem to be out of shape and content to suck back sodas (while a Dr. Pepper is firmly in my grip) without finding a balance. But if I stay at it then someday, hopefully by this summer, I'll have something to show for it. I am not a Bendy Straw.

Yet.