Happy people really are fat, and try as you might, you cannot get your cardio in bed. After days of eating Chinese food, Buffalo wings, French fries, and fried chicken chased with beer, Scotch, Swamp Water, and Slurpees, I can barely button my dress pants and my arms are jiggling. Thankfully yesterday put me in an awful mood and I got my fat, no longer happy ass to the gym.
I had made plans to join my high school roommate and a long-lost friend from sophomore year for dinner at Penelope's in Murray Hill. In order to fit in a workout before dinner, I returned to my old Equinox location at 33rd and Park. The minute I walked in I remembered why I never went when I lived down there - the place is awkwardly designed, there are way too many people milling about doing nothing, and there tend to be events held in the narrow path between the gym floor and the locker rooms. (Yesterday's was a pizza party. Yes really. A pizza party. That's exactly what I want to smell after I've sweat my ass off for over an hour. I was tempted to throw up on the table, but that seemed a bit excessive just to prove my point.)
My baditude was really on a roll, and I was scowling left and right. Then, the cosmic gym gods decided to spite me because I finally found a Yves-less Cardio Kickbox class worth my time. Akin Williams teaches this 45-minute class and I really liked his style. There were even hinge kicks! The majority of the people there were rather lame and I'd appreciate some volunteers to attend with me and kick the energy level up. I don't expect everyone to add extra plyo moves, but I have little respect for people who walk out of classes as dry as when they walked in. Akin had this extra special abs move at the end, combining down/down/up/up planks with push-ups and plank jacks. I am imagining that this is why my midsection hurts and not because the very non-elastic waistband of these trousers is cutting off the blood supply to my lower half.