Butts & Guts

Full Disclosure: I have the physical fitness level of an 8-year-old girl. This class is probably doable for any normal person.  

5:05 p.m. – I stuff my guts with food, because this class is scheduled when I normally eat dinner.

 

5:54 – Only four other people show up outside the door for class, meaning that the instructor will be able to see me screw everything up.

 

6:10 – We finish warming up. My body is already screaming.

 

6:17 – I collapse onto the floor mid-lunge.

 

6:32 – I think my butt just broke.

 

6:35 – Instructor says nice encouraging things, such as: “You can do it,” “Finish the set. Don’t give up,” and “You have to actually lift your leg up here.”

 

6:40 – Now we are listening to Lady Gaga, and my lower body has gone gaga.

 

6:42 – I pretend to drink water for three minutes, so I don’t have to do crunches.

 

6:50 – I stay in child’s pose silently crying for the last five minutes of class while we are supposed to be doing push-ups.

 

7:23 – I get back to Holder after 20 minutes of gingerly limping through what is normally a five-minute walk back to my room. I can feel neither my butt nor my guts.

 

9:30 a.m. The next day – I am physically unable to get out of bed because I am too sore.   

 

Overall, Butts and Guts was a poor choice given that I had to eat dinner when I wasn’t hungry, couldn’t walk to get late meal and couldn’t get out of my bed to get breakfast. However, for the more athletic and physically capable students on campus, Butts and Guts is a great and fun 50-minute weight training session. Oh, and the music, ranging from Rihanna to Lady Gaga is pretty “pop”in’.