Goin' up to the spirit in the sky . . .

First, the quote of the day from campus:
"It's rush, dumbass!"

Next, my experience at the aerobics that Jesus built.

I finally dragged myself out of bed on my non-teaching day in time for 8:30 aerobics. (Note to those who do not know my morning schedule--I have breakfast and coffee before aerobics. I have coffee and breakfast before almost anything in the morning. This is for the best. Although I recently read an article that suggested this habit could cause me to have a heart attack while working out. At least I'd die thinking, "nice irony.")

So I shuffled into my gym, where the folks call me "Mizz Meg" and the gym owner (who is the number one resident of Closettown, by the by. . .he flirts with me shamelessly. I just want to say, "If you like me, you'll LOVE my brother!" But that could get him killed) always calls out, "Hey gorgeous!" I love my gym. I went into the class, which is one of these aerobic/weight deals. You're lifting free weights, but it's high reps and low weights. The opposite of actual weight lifting, really.

I walk in, and I ask the nice lady near the door whether she can tell me what weights I might need, because I'm new, and the woman (who, for the sake of the narrative, I would describe as a large black woman filled with the spirit of the Lord) grabs my hand and says, "HoneyChild! (haven't heard this since 1980) You are gonna be hurtin' this evening! Oh Lord! Let's get you set up." And then this 65 year old woman hooked me up with weights. Then she introduced me to Insanely Fit Church Lady, hereafter known as the IFCL.

IFCL is one of these women who is born to teach fitness classes. I love women like this, because they make me laugh, they love their work, and they hand me my ass with every class. These women are in SHAPE. But to this point, they haven't had halos. IFCL is another story.

So we start working out, and it's a lot of older women, a few young-n-pudgy, and me, who's on a "take back the ass" campaign to fix back what the dissertation broke. IFCL had me pegged from the start: strong enough to get through almost any workout, and stubborn enough to kill herself before complaining in a new group. So she tried to kill me. But first, she saved my soul.

It was typical aerobics chatter at first -- the stories about getting up in the morning, how pretty the weather was on Sunday, traffic on the way in, her 5:30 spinning class (yes, the IFCL taught a 5:30 spinning class and now was teaching aerobics and kicking our butts). Then, when we were warm, we started hearing about Our Lord.

"Jesus gave you breath this morning! You better use it! You better savor that breath because today might be your last! I don't mind a bit! Live it! Use that breath!"

(Honestly, I found this rather charming, and was only slightly shruggy about the Lord references.)

A few other comments here and there, and then IFCL stripped to her sports bra, revealing the most shredded torso I've ever seen on a woman who wasn't a professional body builder. I immediately swore to do whatever she asked of me. I don't want to look like this, necessarily, but I like being led by someone who's done it. Maybe I should also get Jesus as my personal trainer.

Then it was choir time. (During our bicep curls.) "Spirit in the Sky" came on, and we played back up chorus to her Norman Greenbaum.

Never been a sinner, I've never sinned (FOUR MORE!)
I've got a friend in Jesus
So you know that when I die ('CAUSE YOU COULD!)
He's gonna set me up with the spirit in the sky

Oh, set me up with the spirit in the sky - spirit in the sky [THIS IS US]
That's where I'm gonna go when I die - when I die [THREE COUNT!]
When I die and they lay me to rest
I'm gonna go to the place that's the best
Go to the place that's the best

I'm not sore, either, which concerns me.  Perhaps I'll feel scrappy tomorrow
(in time for teaching!), or perhaps this was a blessed workout, one which is painless.
I'm like Saint Margaret or something. It's a different world, peoples. Different
world.