Zumba

The latest craze to hit the gym circuit is a Latin infused dance/aerobics class called Zumba. At the beginning of the summer, my gym started offering the class during the day and it was a HUGE hit. To accommodate all of us "workers" they finally decided to offer Zumba in the evenings on a trial basis. I was a bit curious about this class so I decided to attend, along with 60-70 other women and 1 man. I felt like it was the first day of class, freshman year in college. As soon as I walked into the gym I had a flashback of walking into a large lecture hall that was filled with a zillion students, all of whom were excited and nervous for their first class. Imagine, walking in, trying to see if you know anyone in the class, finding the perfect seat . . . not too close to the front, yet far enough away that if you are screwing around no one will notice. Flash forward to Zumba class . . . same sort of experience, finding the perfect place, not too close to the front but far enough away that no one will notice how bad I am.

At the beginning of class, the VERY enthusiastic instructor claps her hands and expects everyone to copy her. It is a little like being in kindergarten, which I don't respond well too, but, everyone else seemed to go right along with the hand clapping. The instructor then goes on to tell us that she will not be using a microphone in the class. In fact, she will not be speaking during the class and you’ll have to watch her hands and feet to know what the next move will be. After hearing this, I think to myself, "WTF, I already HATE this class. I should just go home. How am I supposed to figure out all of these moves if the crazy woman doesn't use verbal clues to help us along?" Finally, after her announcement of the class rules and how many calories we were going to potentially burn--400-1000, (again like being in kindergarten) the music starts . . . My first thought is, "This is the kind of music that you listen to while drinking a foofie drink laying by the pool or on the beach. Oh how I wish I was doing that right now!" Instead of drinking by the pool, I begin to panic a bit . . . my body doesn't move like it used too, my hips don't move like they used either. I felt SO old!

I spent the next hour stumbling to keep up with the instructor, tripping, laughing and getting reacquainted with my rhythm. At the end of class I was so sweaty you would have thought that I took a shower with my clothes on. I was tired but a different tired than I am used to with kickboxing. Kickboxing kicks my butt. When I get home from kickboxing I am so drained that I hardly can move the rest of the night. After Zumba I felt more fluid and a bit refreshed. All-in-all it was and is a good workout. Last night was my third class; I am planning on continuing with the 60-70 other nuts! A little variety in my work out won't kill me!