Y’all, this is me.
So, I went to Los Angeles for a brief vacation to see friends and family, and while I was there, I remembered that someone had told me Richard Simmons still taught his own class in his own studio and that it was a mere $12.
And that, my friends, is a truth. Richard Simmons is a force of nature, and I barely survived to tell you this: that class is hard. Really. Hard. Also, Richard Simmons is in on the joke about the spandex. Also, Richard Simmons has held my ponytail, and no, that is not a euphemism.
My friend Lauren and I went sort of as a joke, and it definitely started that way. Brother just walked in and kissed everyone and sparkled and was generally buff in our direction. Then the music started.
AND OH GOOD GOD DO I WANT RICHARD’S APPROVAL. He is NOT handing it out, either. He ran us around that exquisite hardwood floor for 90 minutes, telling people to move their asses. FASTER. HIGHER. HARDER. On a water break, Lauren and I decided all we had to do was not be the absolute worst, which we achieved. I think.
Anyway, at the end, we were all tasked to “gather some steam and chase our dreams” which sounds corny but I was so into it. Then Richard informed us that the only acceptable place for a Kit-Kat was up our asses and let us go home.
Sweaty and grateful, I went out for a cupcake.
