For the first time in my life, I joined a gym this past week.
Oh I've been to a gym before. But never joined. Never made the monetary commitment to get my parts in shape. Till now. My life is about to change. Forever, well, at least for the next year or so. No contracts were signed.
I'm started to get this feeling that my boys are stronger and faster and in much better shape than me. And then I think of my mom who used to play tennis at my age. I don't do anything. I'm at my target weight now that I've changed my eating habits, I've lost 20 pounds, but I'm not heart healthy. It was time to remedy that fact.
The desk guy handed me a sheet listing all of the classes that they offered. On it was Zumba. I've watched enough info-mercials while ironing to know what Zumba was. It looked fun, albeit sweaty. I don't like to sweat too much. There. I said it.
But I took the plunge. I happily dragged my boys along to the Adventure Room and timidly walked into the room.
Our pretty petite instructor started the music and we all started moving. It's Hip Hop meets Latin America Mamba. All female, all ages. The lovely older ladies were moving and grooving and I was obviously the newbie missing half the steps.
But I could do the grapevine. I do a mean grapevine. All those high school aerobic classes came back to me when I needed them the most.
Every wall had mirrors. I happened to glance at my red-faced self a time or two and realized with dismay how white I was. I mean, I like to dance. I mean really like to dance. But when I dance at weddings and parties I don't have a mirror on all sides. I looked like the Tin Man doing The Robot. Miss Hip Hop Instructor is sashaying, gyrating, and crumping, and I'm stiff as a board. A white board. As in Caucasian White. (even with a red face and a tan.)
I need me some soul. Some inspiration. And if I can't get it from within, I thought, I'll have to just get inspiration on the outside.
So I went to Marshalls and bought myself a few new exercise outfits. I'm a clearance fiend. And sneakers. It is Marshalls after all. Great prices. Now I have no excuse. I have a couple of cute outfits to wear to the next few classses I am planning to attend.
Let's see how I feel tomorrow.
The Lunch Lady
Oh I've been to a gym before. But never joined. Never made the monetary commitment to get my parts in shape. Till now. My life is about to change. Forever, well, at least for the next year or so. No contracts were signed.
I'm started to get this feeling that my boys are stronger and faster and in much better shape than me. And then I think of my mom who used to play tennis at my age. I don't do anything. I'm at my target weight now that I've changed my eating habits, I've lost 20 pounds, but I'm not heart healthy. It was time to remedy that fact.
The desk guy handed me a sheet listing all of the classes that they offered. On it was Zumba. I've watched enough info-mercials while ironing to know what Zumba was. It looked fun, albeit sweaty. I don't like to sweat too much. There. I said it.
Our pretty petite instructor started the music and we all started moving. It's Hip Hop meets Latin America Mamba. All female, all ages. The lovely older ladies were moving and grooving and I was obviously the newbie missing half the steps.
But I could do the grapevine. I do a mean grapevine. All those high school aerobic classes came back to me when I needed them the most.
Every wall had mirrors. I happened to glance at my red-faced self a time or two and realized with dismay how white I was. I mean, I like to dance. I mean really like to dance. But when I dance at weddings and parties I don't have a mirror on all sides. I looked like the Tin Man doing The Robot. Miss Hip Hop Instructor is sashaying, gyrating, and crumping, and I'm stiff as a board. A white board. As in Caucasian White. (even with a red face and a tan.)
I need me some soul. Some inspiration. And if I can't get it from within, I thought, I'll have to just get inspiration on the outside.
So I went to Marshalls and bought myself a few new exercise outfits. I'm a clearance fiend. And sneakers. It is Marshalls after all. Great prices. Now I have no excuse. I have a couple of cute outfits to wear to the next few classses I am planning to attend.
Let's see how I feel tomorrow.
The Lunch Lady
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