Finding my inner Latina

This morning called for some cardio and I hit the gym Zumba style. Have you ever taken a Zumba class? I was pretty geeked to dance the pounds away. This was going to be fun…I could just feel it. I showed up early and got a spot right in the middle. The whole studio was filled. My spot was next to a group of girls who were friends, a little bit behind the Latin corner, and in front of the old people. I’m standing there, taking in my surroundings, when a blonde chic in a bright workout outfit, with her hair in pigtails comes bouncing into the room with a friend who is also in a bright outfit with hair in pigtails. The friend kicked her pigtails up a notch with some neon rubberbands spaced about an inch apart. They are speaking fluent Spanish. One of them has to be the instructor. It’s the blonde lady. She’s cute and energetic {and I’m going to be honest and tell you that I spent the vast majority of the class trying to decide if her boobs were real or not}. Latin music fills the room and we start salsa-ing it up.

About 2 seconds into the warm-up this really, and I mean really old white guy comes into the room, crosses in front of me, and takes a spot behind me to my right. Immediately after him this lady comes in and takes a spot at my 11 o’clock. She’s in her mid-40’s, kinda short, a little plump, she’s wearing a purple hankerchief as a headband, black capris, and {my favorite} a shirt that she has shredded the bottom half and the sleeves, and tied little knots at the bottom of each shred. Totally unrelated to the shred, I realized that the shirt is an advertisement for a retreat facility here in town that I did a marriage retreat at a few years ago. It was one of the weirdest weekends of my life. Anyways, I knew instinctively that this lady and I were going to have a good time. In my head we were friends already.

We’re salsa-ing, and grape-vining to some hip Latin music and I notice the man to my immediate left. He’s very serious about these moves. His focus is solid. His movements, are not. I try my hardest the entire class to not laugh hysterically. The instructor is moving us in a big square. About half the class {myself included} went the wrong way. Then we scramble to get back in line, but screw up the step. I modified about 99% of this class. What does “modify” mean? Um, I danced like a maniac, fumbled through footing, and in general was about 2 beats behind everybody {who knew what they were doing}. There was a lady behind me, mid-50’s who danced like she was mid-50’s, and we were pretty much in synch with each other. The instructor began doing pelvic thrusts. I figured I could do that. Then she started moving her hips like Shakira…and told us to “DO IT LIKE YOU MEAN IT!!!!” In my head, I responded, “Lady, I can’t move my hips like that even when there’s pleasure involved.” But, nevertheless, I channeled my inner-Shakira and shooks those hips like my life depended on it…completely off beat. The lady in the shredded T-shirt added a shimmy to the hip shaking. Over achiever.

Seriously though, here’s the run down of characters…

Lady w/the shredded T-shirt -she added a shimmy to anything that she could, danced occasionally like she was at Woodstock, and sometimes made up moves that were all her own.

Old Man in the back- oh, I love this man, he tapped his way through the class, his head keeping beat with the music, his muscles not doing what he was telling them to do. He was the most adorable old man you’ll ever see.

Dude to my left – I began calling him “Crazy Dude” when I caught him pretending to slap a lady on her behind during one dance routine. Nasty. =)

And, then there was me, like I said, I made up about 99% of my own moves, attempted to follow the basic steps, looked like a robot in a Latin class, decided I was too white and just gave in to the crazy. If there were other people in the class who write blogs, I’m pretty sure I gave them good material. Actually, I’m positive I did. When I came home I may or may not have made a video of all the dance moves. Hypothetically, if I did, let’s say that I just watched it, and because my {very} white stretch-marked laden flabby belly made an appearance 1 too many times, I decided not to post it. Hypothetically. Of course. But, unhypothetically, I’ve heard a rumor that Shakira is looking for a new background dancer….


6 responses to “Finding my inner Latina

  1. Loved this post.. makes me wanna try some zumba… just for people watching!

  2. You make me laugh and you’re WAY braver than me!

  3. I literally laughed out loud on this one! A few of my favorites:
    *I’m going to be honest and tell you that I spent the vast majority of the class trying to decide if her boobs were real or not.
    *In my head we were friends already. (referring to lady w/ shredded shirt)
    *His focus is solid. His movements, are not.
    *“Lady, I can’t move my hips like that even when there’s pleasure involved.”
    *The lady in the shredded T-shirt added a shimmy to the hip shaking. Over achiever.
    Oh how I wish I could join you!! 🙂

  4. Thank you for this post today. It made me laugh out loud on numerous points. I feel I would have the same experience as you because I have exactly no rhythm. Also, I am obsessed with knowing if people’s boobs are real, not sure what this says about me. I love your zest for fitness, I think you’re doing splendidly. I might just try Zumba now…

  5. this post is awesome. so freaking funny. please keep posting these here!! dont start a new blog. i love your workout stories and look forward to them daily!

  6. Pingback: How to handle “The Crazy Guy” | Confessions of a Reluctant Housewife

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