Page 83 of An Introvert's Guide to Life and Love
One of the elders moves to the front of the group, waving his hands to get everyone to quiet down. He’s short and squat, with a round, freckled face and a big white smile that reminds me of Gramps. Unexpectedly, the voice that comes out of his mouth is loud and booming with a heavy Boston accent.
“All right, everyone, let’s get started.”
“That’s Ace,” Angela whispers to me as I spread my towel next to her mat.
“Is that his real name?” I whisper back.
“No.”
There’s no time for further explanation, as Ace has started themusic, using an iPhone and a Bluetooth speaker with absolutely no technical difficulties. His competence leaves me feeling unbalanced. The music is a sort of instrumental power rock, which only adds to my confusion.
Following Ace’s instructions, we sit cross-legged and begin with some gentle stretches. This, I’m okay with. He leads us through neck stretches and wrist rolls, gradually transitioning into cat cow. Music aside, moving through the familiar yoga stretches against the backdrop of bright white beach and sparkling water is downright pleasant.
I’m starting to loosen up, when Ace calls, “Now that everyone’s back is warmed up, we’ll move straight from cat cow to scorpion walk.”
Scorpion walk? I cast a bemused look at Angela, but she’s looking at her friend on the other side, raising her eyebrows like,Oh, here we go. Suddenly, everyone is on their hands and feet, butts in the air, flipping one leg over the other, followed by one arm, doing a sort of extravagant sideways crab walk. I do my best to follow their lead, getting dizzy as we scorpion-walk across the gazebo and back to our mats. I’m a little out of breath, but the move definitely got my heart rate up and stretched my shoulders and hips.
“Duck walk!” Ace calls.
There are some appreciative murmurs as everyone finds a deep squat position and then waddles, hands on hips, like a duck. I can’t help but laugh as I waddle unsteadily along with them.
That one was kind of fun. And also, how are they all doing this with their elderly knees?
“Gorilla!”
There are a few groans and a few whoops. I whoop along with them, getting into it. The gorilla walk turns out to be similar toduck, except you swing one leg out in front of the other while the other stays in a deep squat. It looks hilarious, but my quads and glutes are on fire by the end of it.
“Okay,” I mutter to Angela, “I can see why you’re all so toned. Ouch.”
She just gives a little laugh. An ominous little laugh.
“Bunny hops!” Ace says. That sounds cute—but no one whoops this time. I glance around uneasily.
We’re back in the deep squat, hands behind our heads, and we’re hopping. After two hops, it becomes apparent that I absolutely do not have the stamina for this. I barely make it, doing tiny squatting bunny hops with my feet barely leaving the ground. Back on my towel, I’m panting, ready for a break.
Someone calls out, “My knees, Ace, my knees!”
“Yeah, can we move on, please?” another man agrees.
“Yeah, yeah, we’re done with the squats,” Ace says, and I can’t help but notice that his stout body isn’t as round and squishy as I previously thought. It’s more… round and rock-hard, like a boulder. I’m about to settle into child’s pose when Ace booms, “Crouching tiger!”
Quickly, with no complaints, everyone finds a plank position and crawls across the gazebo with their knees extending to their elbows. I can do it without too much difficulty, but I’m definitely getting a cardio workout from all this.
“Not too bad,” I whisper to Angela when we’re back on our mats.
She shushes me. I take this as a bad sign.
“Chameleon!”
At first glance, the chameleon walk appears to be similar to crouching tiger. Except, I realize, everyone is pausing for a beat in the middle to do a one-armed push-up before crawling onward.
“Uhhh…” I kneel on my mat, watching these old folks move their bodies in ways I could never hope to achieve.
“Mallory!” Ace barks.
Everyone else “ooohs” like we’re in second grade and I just got in trouble with the teacher. So I do my best to follow the moves, wobbling like a drunken lizard instead of a muscular chameleon.
I half crawl back to my spot and gulp down some water. Ace gives us a thirty-second rest break.
