Welcome to the Gun Show
I spend my life hunting for exercise in disguise — activities that will hasten my heart rate and tone my tail feathers without me much noticing. Too aggro for yoga, too wussy for ... well, anything that hurts, I need to be tricked into fitness. I need it to just sort of happen while I'm living my otherwise delightful and not especially active life.
Which is why my friend Margaret suggested we spend a nice evening chasing one another around in the dark, trying to kill each other dead.
Margaret is not a scary person. She's an erudite English professor and cookie-baking mommy who happens to have a jones for laser combat. For months, she has been begging me to join her at Motionz laser tag in Santa Maria for their weekly Lasercise night (wha ... ?) and when I run out of excuses, I gather my up-for-anything gal pals Kate and Kalai and bite the bullet. Or rather nibble the bright red beam.
On the drive up, we giggle and snort as Margaret briefs us Spandex-clad suburbanites on Lasercise procedure. Clad in high-tech, sensor-laden vests and wielding bad-ass light-launching weaponry, we will do calisthenics then play back-to-back laser-tag games in Motionz's two-story indoor war zone. The object is simple: Shoot people, and don't get shot.
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