When you suddenly discover you've got someone else's foot

We learned a new exercise in fitness class last night. 

Hannah said, 'Sit on the floor, legs straight out. Lean forward, put your hands by your knees and then lift one foot after the other keeping your leg straight.'

So I sat on the floor, leant forward, put my hands on the floor by my knees then lifted one straight leg. 

At least that's what I did in my head.

In reality, I sat on the floor, leant forward, put my hands on the floor by my knees, told my foot to rise and ... nothing happened.

It was like suddenly discovering you've accidentally picked up a foot that doesn't belong to you. I'm fortunate in that most of my body does what it's told when I tell it so having a disobedient foot came as a shock.
'Foot! Why aren't you listening to me? I'm telling you to lift.'
'Nope. Not doing it.'
'What do you mean you're not doing it? It's not up to you.'
'Am I doing it?'
'No, you're not.'
'My point proven.'

It took an awful lot of will power to get my foot off the floor. Or is it muscle power? It was definitely mind over matter whatever it was.

And it looked so simple when Hannah did it.

Me fighting with my foot