How Long Are You Supposed to Rest Between Sets at the Gym? Like Three Months?

I take an exercise class at the YMCA called "Core Body Blast with Peggy" a few days a week. 

If you don't know Peggy, click here and prepare to be WOWED. She is the real deal.

I'm not sure what the hardest part of the class is. Maybe it's the first 15 minutes when we do various ab workouts. We start on it right away, and things move swiftly. Mostly , you just keep going when it gets tiring because you don't want to be known as that girl in the back who occasionally rests on the floor while everyone else is crunching.

Okay, that might be me.

Sometimes when I'm resting I peek at my classmates, who are dutifully raising and lowering their torsos. Besides me, no one else appears to be lazy and cheating with extra seconds lying on their mat.

Okay, I tell myself, I can do better. I want to lose my belly fat. 

And so I crunch more.

Peggy reminds us to get the full range of motion, demonstrating the proper way to crunch before we move to a different ab exercise involving pulling our shoulders off the mat with our legs in the air while holding a 10-pound weight.

"How many of these do you want to do?" 

"Twenty," says the class.

"Oh, let's do fifty on each side. You ladies are strong. Ready?"

I groan from the back of the room because (1) I'm annoyed at the amount of abdominal discomfort I'm already feeling and; (2) I'm horrified just thinking about lowering and raising myself off the floor 100 more times.

I get to work but soon I don't care if anyone thinks I am lazy or weak. I slow my crunches and listen to the counting. "35...36...37." I'm lagging. It's almost to the point where I couldn't crunch myself upright to grab a Big Mac if you dangled one in my face. 

I glance at the clock. Four minutes in.

After 15 minutes of ab work, we get a one-minute break before we begin medicine ball drills and cardio.

We run across the gym while holding a ten-pound medicine ball. Slam the ball ten times on the floor. Ten jumping jacks. Pick up the ball. Ten squats holding the ball. Run back across the gym. We do that routine so many times and I'm so tired, to keep myself going I fantasize about slowly backing my car over that ball, crushing its stupid rubbery skin under the tires.

Next, we step up and over our bench a thousand times, holding and slamming the ball on each side. Then we balance on a Bosu ball while doing bicep curls. Balance on a Bosu ball? With weights? Who is going to get me on the Bosu ball? And then get me off the Bosu ball?

Oh, look. Danielle just fell off the Bosu ball.

Way to go me! No time to be embarrassed, I think. But a few minutes later, I see myself in the mirror and notice toothpaste around my mouth while remembering I talked to about 15 people this morning and no one mentioned it. Oh well. My sloppy hygiene matches my sloppy exercising.

We dive into the trifecta of exercise hell: Alternating mountain climbers, burpees, and push-ups. Those are followed by more ball slams before we start lunges. Oh, so many lunges! Finally, a break so we can shuffle across the floor with a large elastic band around our knees that wants to go THROOOOOOOWWWNG and slap our legs back together with each step. 

We shuffle while holding that freaking ball, stopping only to slam it. My heart rate is high, my muscles are screaming and I want nothing more than to sit the heck down and eat a cookie.

There are various other exercises, but you get the picture. Core Body Blast is tough stuff.

As I drive home my body is hissing in pain. My chest, arms, thighs, calves, and shoulders are complaining at a level I'm familiar with because after nine months I still hurt after class. My butt chimes in and reminds me of the elastic band shuffles. Even my hair hurts and I'm pretty sure I could have internal organ damage.

I collapse on the couch, do a few lower back stretches, and then shut my eyes. Everything is sore and stiff. I feel as if I'm traveling down a long, dark tube, perhaps seeing the silhouette of dead relatives calling to me from the other side. Then my phone buzzes. It's Bill messaging me. "How was it?" he asks.

"It was great," I say (whimper). And I mean that.

When I regain my ability to walk I feel like a warrior and grateful that I started the day doing something hard.

As I write these words there is a feeling of pride and accomplishment and much gratitude to Peggy for the camaraderie, friendship, and fun she inspires in that room, the way she constantly reminds us that we CAN DO IT, and how she pushes us to be our best.

Because of her class, I am stronger now. I am more confident. I feel more capable in every sense of the word.

I hate Core Body Blast but I love Core Body Blast.

Relaxing and watching golf with my pal Peggy after class.