Lacking in Grace...

I went to an aqua aerobics class at the American club this morning. Oh, I know what you're thinking. Aqua aerobics is for old ladies. I will not deny that the majority of the women there, including myself, were of a certain more...venerable age, but don't let that fool you. There is definitely a certain skill set that is required to successfully participate in aqua aerobics. I should know because...I don't possess it.

I joined a class several years ago in Nebraska. A friend of mine who was considerably younger than I and heavily into martial arts went with me. After an hour and a half of torture, we dubbed the instructor The Water Natzi and vowed never to return again.

Today was sort of a team teaching event and the instructors were neither cruel nor sadistic, or so it seemed, but that didn't help because they used "things". "Things" that I could not control. I swim. I am a proficient swimmer. I used to train Dolphins for pete's sake, but I met my match in a devilish little device called a pool noodle. I do not know why I have no gift for the pool noodle, but I most emphatically do not.

I hadn't actually gone to the pool for a class. I was planning on just swimming laps but I recognized several women in the group and I was invited to join so it seemed like a nice idea but I was wrong. It was a bad idea.

The first exercise seemed simple enough. Straddle a long noodle like you would a saddle and kick. This was easy! Then one of the instructors said to wrap the noodle around our backs and under our arms. It was a diabolical move she called The Couch. She ordered us to put our legs behind us and then do something else.

I don't remember what the something else was because as soon as I tried to maneuver my legs behind me, my torso dipped below the surface like one of those happy bird toys that dips it's beak into the glass and then pops back up. If I put my legs behind me, I face planted into the water. If I pulled my torso out of the water, my feet would pop up in front of me. I felt like an awkward sort of water bound Weeble.

Then we did a move called The Mermaid. As I tried most in gracefully to flail my "fins" from side to side I felt distinctly un-mermaid like. I also noticed that while the other women were executing the move in a nice tight little space, I was flailing from one side of the pool to another.

By the end of the class, my self esteem was swirling around the drain at the bottom of the pool. I vowed to never participate in such an undignified event again. I will swim my laps with a stately grace and dignity, but trying to do Aqua aerobics was not unlike attempting to dance hip hop at my age and still look cool. Neither will ever happen.