Me Pilates and a Graceful Zebra?

Today I bravely woke up early - arguing the entire time with my inner sleep diva (who is rather bitchy and usually wins)- so I can attended Pilates.  I come barreling into class; eyes half shut, feet barely shuffling along the ground, shocking my entire system into either hiding in a corner or shutting down into fetal position.  At one point I realize I wouldn't even be able to pass a DUI test, let alone have enough coordination to step, slide, walk forward backward, with a lung, kick, and god forbid any kind of grace.  I looked about as graceful as a zebra stuck in the mud - to be fair to the zebras, they are way more grace then me.

After 45 minutes of my 60 min class, I start to wake up.  I find myself wanting to push harder. But wouldn't you know, I've left my friend coordination back in bed (lucky bugger).  I fight my way through the rest of class, humbly remembering why I choose to participate (to lift my booty), thank the teacher (I'm not sure why, cause I know my legs are gonna hurt, and I'm going to be using her name in vain later today) and shuffle in pain back home.