So, the old man gave me a gym pass for Christmas. Not the most romantic or personal gift...perhaps even insensitive but I accepted it graciously. Truth be told, I am feeling a little like the hippo from Disney's Fantasia, and after today looking like her too...apparently.
Today I went to Zumba. For those of you who are not famililar with the term allow me to explain...it's essentially dirty dancing, but with just yourself...AND I LOVED IT. Just kidding...but really I did. (Imagine lots of rump shakin' and pelvic thrustin'...movements I am not accustomed to using...but I had fun trying.)
I did my reasearch before attending and sorta knew what I was getting myself into and I wasn't too worried. Back in the day I used to dance and felt quite at home on the dance floor. I was an "enigma" to behold. However, that was a long....long, long, long time ago. So, I tried to prep myself as best I could...channeling my inner J-Lo and I felt ready and up for the challenge.
I had a little bit of nerves in the beginning, but that was mostly due to the fact that I was the fattest one in the class. I pretty much knew my moves could trump everyone in the room, except for maybe the instructors and my friend Deni...but that was only a matter of time.
Anywho, the music came on and I could hear the heavy, rythmical, latin beat
and immediately found myself moving. Things were good...I was doing good so far.
Then the instructor hopped up front and start marching DOUBLE TIME to the beat...squashing my confidence with each hellishly quick step she took. I figured I had nothing to lose (except for a few pounds) and threw all caution to the wind and let loose...trying my best to not look like SYTYCD reject. I have to admit that I did a pretty good job keeping up. Better than some of the seasoned Zumba-ers if you ask me. I didn't pass out once and caught on to most of the movements fairly quickly. I was pretty darn proud of myself for being so daring.
And I'll admit, the thought did cross my mind..."man I wish Chad could have seen me shakin' it just now. He'd be so impressed".(I failed to mention that Chad was actually at the gym with me...not in Zumba thank heavens, but working out elsewhere).
The class ended and I was ecstatic and relieved that I didn't collapse in the middle of a bunch of gyrating women...skinny gyrating women as it were. And I left the class feeling saucy and successful.
I met Chad at the car with my newfound attitude...even adding a little hip action when I opened the door. I hopped up on my seat at just looked at him with my sweaty, smouldering eyes. And then he dropped the bomb..."you're not very coordinated are you?"
I wiped the sultry looked on my face and just stared...real, real hard.
What? Did you not just see me sassin' it up on the floor a few minutes ago, I wondered.
"What do you mean", I asked.
"Well, I stopped by your class a few minutes ago and watched you dance" he shared.
I snapped back into reality and realized that what he had said was maybe a little bit true...okay, probably a lot true. I might have looked a little more like the awkward hippo from Fantasia than a steamy back-up dancer from a Shakira video, but it was only the first day.
So to Chad I say...just you wait, buddy. Just you wait. Pretty soon you'll have your own personal "latin luvva" and you will love it.
And I'm gonna start by having me some chips and salsa.