Working it OUT

The company I'm working for provides employees (all three of us) with a gym membership at the local gym, bartered for advertising space in one of our publications. The gym is a delightful place. There doesn't appear to be a full time staff, so instead there is a sign next to the door that asks you to kindly turn off the lights and music if you're the last person to leave. It's also fully stocked with wooden nordic-ski machines and very old and complex weight machines, which are tons of fun to play with because hey, there's no staff around to glare at you for doing it wrong.
Today I also took the opportunity to try out the pilates class they offer three days a week. Warm introductions and mothering from all female class participants. The class just about kicked me to the curb though. I'm pretty sure I've been bleeding internally all day, and there was also a moment where I thought I had just torn both triceps off of whatever they were supposed to be attached to. While the prospect of detachable triceps is probably reason enough to keep going back, the true reason I plan on going back is that I finally placed where I had heard the instructor's voice before and it thrills me to no end. It had been nagging me throughout the entire session that her voice sounded so familiar.... If you would, I'd like you to take a moment to envision the narrator in the clip below instructing you in pilates, and you'll have a spot-on idea of how I plan to spend my MWF mornings from now on.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ygqh8xZwekI&feature=related