In an effort to diversify my exercise routine I've been taking some Zumba classes. If you aren't familiar, Zumba is the jazzercize of the 21st century. It's a bunch of ladies dancing up a sweat to "latin" inspired music. It's designed to give you a fun workout. Zumba is also a brand, so you can attend a Zumba class anywhere in the country, maybe even the world.
I attended my first Zumba class at the YMCA in Hartford, Connecticut about three years ago. The instructor was young and perky. My cohorts included women in their 20's, 30's and 60's as well as one old man. Overall, a little dorky but after one class I was hooked. Dancing like a fool is fun! And dance like a fool I did. I quickly learned that there was no way I was going to get the sequence of steps correct. But in that first class I made a snap decision as my feet fumbled. I decided that I wasn't going to let not knowing the moves get in the way of my working up a good sweat. I try, but more than anything I just dance my ass off.
I'm not religious about Zumba, but it's a convenient way to break out of a workout rut. Over the years I've Zumba'd in a few cities. It's pretty much always the same crowd and instructor with a slight variance in the songs. What also remains constant is my commitment to break a sweat and have a good time with total disregard to what I look like. Out of decency I usually pick a back corner spot to bust my moves. When the instructor starts yelling at people to work it harder, I know she isn't talking to me. By the second song we've already made eye contact with the understanding that I'm just a dancing fool.
I wouldn't have thought that in my little town of 15,000 that Zumba was an option, but on a recent investigative visit to "The Center", I found that Zumba was alive and well in my town. What's more is that classes were $3.50! I'd paid $15 to Zumba in more prestigious locations. I purchased a pass that brought my per Zumba cost down to $2.40. I secretly gloated with my new found hard core evidence that cost of living really is cheaper in the rural south.
I showed up to my first Zumba class ready to bust out with my normal routine. The instructor seemed to be a normal Zumba instructor but with a couple of kids. There appeared to be two other women my age, both with children as well. All the other ladies appeared to be in their 60's and 70's, and one gentleman appeared to be about 83. Several of the elderly women were wearing these special Zumba "belts" I had not seen before.
I was a little appalled. Zumba was dorky before, but this was taking it to a new level. I told myself to shut up and dance. If there was ever a scenario in which I didn't have to worry about looking like an idiot, it was this one. Per protocol, I established myself in a far corner of the gymnasium and began to work it. By the third song, I was already entrenched in sweat and the instructor had a special announcement to make.
"I don't normally single people out, but somebody has a LOT of energy in here!"
I looked around innocently. I hadn't really been focusing on other people. Slowly but surely, all eyes turned towards me.
"That's great!" She proclaimed. "I love energy!"
I smiled meekly and shrugged my shoulders. While attention was the last thing I was after, I wasn't going to let her announcement keep me from giving it my all.
Her comment opened up the floor for others to remark. After class, little old ladies would ask me questions like:
"Are you just warming up, or are you tired now?"
"Just warming up" I'd reply on days I was feeling jestful. "Oh, I'm tired now" I'd reply if I didn't feel like joking, even if I wasn't tired at all.
And from then on in, I became the crazy Zumba queen in a little farm town in Tennessee.
I attended my first Zumba class at the YMCA in Hartford, Connecticut about three years ago. The instructor was young and perky. My cohorts included women in their 20's, 30's and 60's as well as one old man. Overall, a little dorky but after one class I was hooked. Dancing like a fool is fun! And dance like a fool I did. I quickly learned that there was no way I was going to get the sequence of steps correct. But in that first class I made a snap decision as my feet fumbled. I decided that I wasn't going to let not knowing the moves get in the way of my working up a good sweat. I try, but more than anything I just dance my ass off.
I'm not religious about Zumba, but it's a convenient way to break out of a workout rut. Over the years I've Zumba'd in a few cities. It's pretty much always the same crowd and instructor with a slight variance in the songs. What also remains constant is my commitment to break a sweat and have a good time with total disregard to what I look like. Out of decency I usually pick a back corner spot to bust my moves. When the instructor starts yelling at people to work it harder, I know she isn't talking to me. By the second song we've already made eye contact with the understanding that I'm just a dancing fool.
I wouldn't have thought that in my little town of 15,000 that Zumba was an option, but on a recent investigative visit to "The Center", I found that Zumba was alive and well in my town. What's more is that classes were $3.50! I'd paid $15 to Zumba in more prestigious locations. I purchased a pass that brought my per Zumba cost down to $2.40. I secretly gloated with my new found hard core evidence that cost of living really is cheaper in the rural south.
I showed up to my first Zumba class ready to bust out with my normal routine. The instructor seemed to be a normal Zumba instructor but with a couple of kids. There appeared to be two other women my age, both with children as well. All the other ladies appeared to be in their 60's and 70's, and one gentleman appeared to be about 83. Several of the elderly women were wearing these special Zumba "belts" I had not seen before.
I was a little appalled. Zumba was dorky before, but this was taking it to a new level. I told myself to shut up and dance. If there was ever a scenario in which I didn't have to worry about looking like an idiot, it was this one. Per protocol, I established myself in a far corner of the gymnasium and began to work it. By the third song, I was already entrenched in sweat and the instructor had a special announcement to make.
"I don't normally single people out, but somebody has a LOT of energy in here!"
I looked around innocently. I hadn't really been focusing on other people. Slowly but surely, all eyes turned towards me.
"That's great!" She proclaimed. "I love energy!"
I smiled meekly and shrugged my shoulders. While attention was the last thing I was after, I wasn't going to let her announcement keep me from giving it my all.
Her comment opened up the floor for others to remark. After class, little old ladies would ask me questions like:
"Are you just warming up, or are you tired now?"
"Just warming up" I'd reply on days I was feeling jestful. "Oh, I'm tired now" I'd reply if I didn't feel like joking, even if I wasn't tired at all.
And from then on in, I became the crazy Zumba queen in a little farm town in Tennessee.
Bringing heart to small town Zumba!!!!
ReplyDeleteLove it! I just got a groupon to do zumba classes here in Austin. I am excited to try it. I am happy to see you were able to find it in your little neck of the woods.
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