This morning I woke up unable to move without pain.
The cause for my old lady hobble?
A kettlebells class.
See, on Saturday, I went to the gym with the Singing Swede. She had tennis, I was going to do a circuit class. Except it became horribly apparent in the first few minutes that I wasn't going to hear anything, so I left.
Fifteen minutes later, as I was running on the treadmill, a guy came up to me to invite me to his gym-floor kettlebells class. Cross that I'd missed circuits, I checked with him whether I'd find it easy to follow and when he said yes, I signed up.
The class was good. You throw a metal weight around that looks like a door stop, you do sit ups with it, squats with it, leg raises and lifting. It goes fast, the pain of each exercise passes quickly, I came out pumped and confident... and crippled.
I cannot bend my legs, I cannot go downstairs – without saying ow on each step – and putting my shoes on this morning felt like the accomplishment of the year. My lower back feels like someone snapped it in half then mended it with Blu-Tack, and just putting one foot in front of the other is a mission.
And am I going to go back next week? Of course I am, because it was a class I could hear well. The instructor was clear, easy to follow, and able to remember for the full 30 minutes that there was a deaf person in his class, making sure I was OK but not neglecting any of his other clients in the process.
So you see I gained doubly from this class. OK today there's pain, but according to him my arse is gonna look amazing and my confidence? Well let's just say the frustration of walking out of a circuits class because of my deafness is long forgotten.
Bravo kettlebells, bravo.