"I promise! I wouldn't miss it!"
"OK, you promised."
"Ness, stop! What is it?"
"Are you sitting down?!"
"OK. Well I've planned for.. are you ready? A private yoga class! The instructor is insane! It's going to be awesome!"
Without even hesitating I flatly said, "I'm not going."
I realize it wasn't fair to flake immediately, but she had to know it was coming. I have the flexibility of a piece of chalk. I sweat when I eat soup. In a workout situation the perspiration is offensive. And to be honest, I've never particularly enjoyed being instructed through exercise. My mother used to bribe me to take swimming lessons by buying me Kudos bars. It helps explain why I'm a very strong swimmer and why I was an exceptionally fat child.
Anyway, here's why I said no:
-Ness is in amazing shape and really into yoga.
-I ran around the other day and proceeded to wake up in the middle of the night with a charlie horse in my butt. I remember shouting, "Is this even possible?!"
-She uses things like yoga walls.
(That's her doing the classic, Hang From The Wall And Grab Someone's Leg move. It's similar to that old school, extend your arms and make small circles stretch.)
-Without exaggeration, a strap on my bag got caught in a bench last week and I missed the bus trying to get it out. If I tried to use a yoga wall, this is the conversation people would have days later:
"She died?! How?"
"She got stuck on a yoga wall."
"Gosh, that's sad. Although, I once saw her trying to pull a bag out of a bench at a bus stop. Kind of makes sense."
-I know part of the reason she's doing this is because she wants to laugh at my sad attempts to touch my toes. And sure enough, that's what she said.
But I suppose if sweating like an idiot, wearing spandex, and pulling a butt muscle on a yoga wall is all she wants from me for her bday, it's the least I can do.