(Kiss my) kettleass

Some of you have heard me ranting and raving about the new weight training we've been doing in class recently using kettlebells. Months ago, when Leila first mentioned kettlebells and I asked her what they were, she replied "a form of Soviet Cold War torture." I now know that she is correct.

Kettlebell training is interesting in the sense that, in order to swing, lift, and position these very heavy weights, you must carefully orchestrate your body to work in tandem with gravity and your core muscle groups. It is completely useless to rely on your arm muscles to pick up these puppies. You have to power yourself using your breath, clench your center and gain a sense of which deep muscles to use and which to let go slack. Of course, prayer doesn't hurt, either.

Tonight was hard because we did repeated sets, which I don't think we have done before. We did sets of 20, 18, and 15 swings with the 45-pound bell. I did clean-and-presses with a 25-pound weight in each hand: 10, 8, 6. These were very hard. I know I'm getting tired when I start making ungodly umffing noises during the press. The umffing actually detracts from your power. My arms started warbling; I lost my center twice.

Kettleass class -- our pet name for it here at home -- is kind of addictive. Underneath my womanly layer of poof lie abs of steel. Hit me here. No, really, hit me.