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Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Zumba Class From Hell


There comes a time in life when things just don't move quiet like they used to. Nothing will bring that home more than a Zumba class at the end of a long day. I'm not sure why I put myself through this whole workout thing, I guess it's because I'm fighting aging as long as I can and I'm determined not to go out without a fight (and a cute pair of heels). So a friend invited me to join her for Zumba class kinda like you would invite a friend to a tubberwear party back in the day. She was real causal about it, no big deal just meet me there at 5:30. I probably should have said no since I'm pretty sure I broke my ovary golfing this weekend, that should tell you what kind of shape I'm in. I wasn't born yesterday, I've done these things but it's kind of like childbirth. After the birth of your first child, with time you forget the pain of labor, you get pregnant again and then with the first contraction it all comes rushing back to you and by then it's too late to do anything about it! I remember when I went in labor with baby #2, I thought to myself "Oh right, it feels just like the movie Alien looks when the queen rips Bishop in half. His upper torso sputters on the floor of the mother ship oozing white goo." Super great idea!!!! Of course at 5:30 in the evening the class is packed with other morons fighting age tooth and toenail so at least you aren't alone. When the cute little instructor began to gyrated and shimmied her hips, I knew I was in for a long ride. Shortly after the gyrating began, I began to suck air. Actually the class wasn't too bad. I claim my spot on the back row and just do the best I can do. The class might even be enjoyable if it wasn't for the dang mirrors. The front of the room and side walls are ceiling to floor mirrors, and although I may not have a great mental image of myself, I pray to God it's not nearly as bad as those mirrors make it look. The class is a good way to learn to multitask.Focus on the instructor's feet, listen for her commands, revert your eyes from the mirrors, concentrate on not stepping on the person on either side of you and ignore the people gawking at the window. Then pray, pray, pray there is no one  you know there to see you. It's a small town and the description of me in Zumba class might rate right up there on the embarrassing meter as me being hypnotized and thinking I was Jennifer Aniston. It's just not something that the general public should have to see, or even imagine.Wednesday I'll be there again, ready to Zumba and hopefully the more I gyrate the better I'll get. Hey!! Don't give me that look.... It could happen.

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