Tuesday, April 03, 2012


I've been meaning to join the gym for some time now.

And by "some time", I mean three years.

Two years ago I started experiencing this jealousy toward those who had gym memberships.

And therefore, access to Zumba classes.

That's right.

I had Zumba envy.

I'd seen the infomercial on TV and good grief, did I want to be that lady who'd lost 70 pounds just by dancing!

Finally, this past Saturday, I signed myself up.

Yesterday was my very first class.

Several ladies from church go to the same class - which, for me, was more of a drawback than a plus.

I woke up at 5am thinking, "Oh, I'm not going.  I'll be so embarrassed when I can't do the steps!"

But, go I did.

Everyone was so encouraging.

They turn down the lights and turn up the Latin music and well, what's not to love?

Naturally, I started giggling immediately because those steps are not easy.

After the first song, I was sweating like a pig.

After the second song, I thought, "Good grief, I'm going to throw up."

I started to get in the way of both the girls in front of and behind me.

After the third song, I limped my way over to the wall, slid down it, and thought, "I knew I was in bad shape, but this is something else."

I rejoined in the middle of the fourth track only to see spots and have to sit down again.

That's right, people.

Fifteen minutes and I was done.

I kept getting looks from the instructor along with very hopeful thumbs up so she wouldn't have to stop the class and have me carted out on a stretcher.

In the mean time, I was looking across the room to find there was an 80-year-old woman keeping up just fine, not to mention the little Asian girl right in front of me who just had so much energy, she was actually adding extra steps.

I wanted to punch both of them in the throat.

One of the ladies from church came over to check up on me and said, "You know you can't tell anyone about what happens in this room.  It's strictly forbidden!"

And I replied, "For heaven sake, Pam, I'm drifting in and out of consciousness!  How am I supposed to even remember what happened?!"

In the end, I had to leave the class and sit outside for a good ten minutes before I could pick Carolyn up from the kiddie place and drive home.

I'm sore this morning.

There's another class in one hour.

Husband says I have to go back.

And I don't even want to.

But I could be persuaded if I knew they'd play Ricky Martin.


Shannon Ivy said...

I hope you went! Have fun!

BexxT said...

Keep going! The first three weeks are the worst! You can do it! (if this makes you feel even a teeny bit better- even when you are in shape and you take what seems like a short break (3 weeks) to recover from a marathon you still feel like you are going to die for like 7-14 days. I am in the middle of that right now and we are only doing 3 miles (which is definitely worthy of an only since our pre-marathon "only" was 5 miles every day.) I am praying that the misery ends soon and I can breathe again. I am also blaming this all on Kings- his stroller must weight like 10 pounds more than it did 4 weeks ago.