Yes, while my daughter was taking her ballet class, I was next door sweating to the oldies.
Oh wait. Wrong class.
I was learning how to Zumba.
I walked in and the hour long class had already started. I was greeted by a friend and then promptly took a spot on the very back row. I’d hate to show everyone up that had been coming to the class for years, and all.
Okay, okay…. feeling a little self-conscious I tried hard to push aside the fact that I hadn’t shaked my derriere like that, or swiveled my hips in ways that I hadn’t in years. “I can do this,” I thought. “I used to be a pretty good dancer. Surely I can do this and not look stupid!”
My first steps were awkward. I was going right when the instructor was going left.
What in the world? Something must have happened to me in the last 15 years. Why can’t I move like I used to?
Oh yes, I wasn’t “packing as much heat” back then, as I am now….
Another song goes by. Okay, the steps are coming to me now, so I don’t feel completely lost. I didn’t even worry about the arm movements at this point, since I was concentrating so hard on getting my feet going the right direction at the right time.
After the first two songs I was starting to sweat, but I wasn’t out of breath. Not bad, but surely this class was halfway over, right?
It hadn’t even been 15 minutes.
We did more songs. I was still trying to get the basic steps down. Tripping over my feet, swinging my hips, trying to let my hair down, I just about froze like a deer in headlights when one of the moves had us swivel around in a circle… promptly putting my rotund back-end in the face of everyone that had, up until this point, been showing me their back-ends.
I liked it better that way.
I glanced at the clock, silently begging, pleading that this class was almost over!
What? How can it only be 20 minutes? Surely we’ve been doing this for three hours!!!
Another song kicks in. I’m really starting to sweat now. I’m still feeling a bit self-conscious, and my face is turning red from the way the instructor is moving her body.
I make a fatal mistake of taking my eyes off the instructor, and glancing at myself in the mirror. AHHH!
Mental note: don’t do that ever again.
The clock was now at the 30 minute mark, I slowly realize that this class is a life sentence the way it creeps by.
I hadn’t danced for more than 10 minutes in a row in years, and that was at random weddings I attended. This dancing without any real breaks is really making me sweat, and I realize my face is not beet red from the way the instructor shakes her groove thang, but rather from me moving my body for more than 30 minutes without a 20 minute break somewhere in there.
40 minutes goes by. I’m starting to let down my self-consciousness after I steal glances in the mirror at others around me and see they are moving as awkwardly as I am.
By minute 45, I’m still praying the class is coming to an end, or at LEAST the cool-down part. But it doesn’t.
However, I AM starting to feel more sure of myself. I’ve got the basic Zumba steps down, but I still have no clue when they are coming, or in what order.
50 minutes goes by. I’m thinking I’m starting to look good. Surely I look just like the cute instructor does, since I’m clearly moving my body the way she is. My hips and legs and moves match her beat for beat. Feeling confident of this new revelation, I take a glance in the mirror at myself.
The stark reality hits me: I look NOTHING like the cute instructor does.
“AHHHH! Why do they insist on putting mirrors in these rooms,” I freak out to myself. I’m hardly even moving my feet, I’m barely swinging my hips. I feel like a bull in a china closet.
55 minutes and counting. I keep waiting for that cool-down to kick in. It never happens.
I watch the clock meticulously just waiting for my daughter’s class to end so I have an excuse to leave. SLOWLY 5 more minutes creep by. I wave to my friend, grab my stuff and high-tail it out of there. “Phew! It’s over!” Red-faced, sweat pouring, but yet, strangely not breathing heavy, I congratulate myself for sticking it out the whole hour. Thank you Jesus that’s over!!
I can’t wait to go back next week. 🙂
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