I’m feeling a little chunky since my book tour. Recovering from a broken ankle in February halted my workouts with a screech. Hard enough to get back on the writing track let alone the workout schedule. The youngest boy drives now, thus my chauffeur duties are complete. I’ve returned to a regular bedtime no matter how tempting one more episode of my most recent binge series is. Building a regular schedule to include time for domestic management, me time, writing time and all of the other things queued up has been hit or miss. Lately, I’m feeling more hits.

To shake things up, I decided to take advantage of the classes at the gym. Yes, I teach yoga and Pilates (and aerobics back in the day, let’s get physical), but it’s not the same as going to someone else’s class. The surgeon also put a strict moratorium on running. Running is a form of zen meditation for me. I’m not fast. I don’t even want to think about what I look like. My brain races while I run and clears out the goo. It’s solitary and rhythmic. I’m not competing, comparing or dealing with anyone but me.

I’m a great teacher both in the traditional classroom and in the fitness studio. I keep an open mind when I go to other people’s classes. It’s not easy no matter who you are. I went to a class and realized I’d been there before and hated the teacher. Okay, okay, shake it off. Get through class. Try to keep it internal and make the most of it. Worst case scenario, not only do I dislike this teacher, but she carries a rant through the entire hour berating the new folks for crowding her classroom.

“Oh, I didn’t realize we wouldn’t have enough rings.” “Oh, we don’t have enough rollers, well it’s not this packed on Thursdays.” “Oh, I guess I’ll have to change this up because we don’t have enough blocks.”

Oh, I’ll gladly get off this mat and punch you in the face now. My clients will tell you, I’m easy. I don’t care if you come once a week, a month or whenever. I’m happy to see you. I know other fitness instructors harass you under the guise of motivation, but it’s really a sales pitch to keep their numbers up. I’m learning as a writer to be my own sales persona, but in the studio? B*&%$ please, people have lives.

I tried to let it go and then she started bad mouthing  yoga. “Pilates is about stabilization as opposed to yoga, which is all about going as far as you can.” “Unlike yoga, Pilates is about core strength.” “This isn’t yoga breathing. This requires abdominal work.” ARGH! Thankfully class had ended before I attacked her. Clearly she’s not a yoga instructor nor even an informed practitioner. I hate listening to so called experts criticize topics when they have zero experience or knowledge.

I know, get over it because that’s the state of news pundits, experts, book critics and almost everyone else with a pulpit. I stayed to take a spin class. Thank goodness a completely different experience, also solitary despite the classroom environment. I also didn’t die, always a bonus in a fitness class. I raged about this to The Beard at dinner. He chuckled and reminded me, in general, I don’t really like people. It’s terrible, right?

I’m a rock star teacher. As an author, I talked to people all over the western states on my book tour. I’m gregarious. I love company and feeding people. I’m not shy or embarrassed in a crowd. I love participating in readings. I don’t bother much with bad reviews. Captivating with a great story is my favorite pastime.  It’s a conundrum.

Writing is a solitary act. I don’t mind spending my day alone. I sometimes go an entire week without speaking to anyone besides the Beard, the boys or the writing staff, especially if I’m avoiding my mother. Either way, I have enough noise in my head without a fitness instructor shouting to goad me to do something I’m already self-motivated to do. I’ll probably head back to spin class, particularly once the weather becomes cold and I can’t ride outside.

In the meantime, if you meet me at a signing or shoot me an email, I promise I’m a wonderful person and I’m happy to talk to you! Weird right?