Wow, my penchant for procrastination has seriously kicked in these last couple weeks! I meant to write this up and post it last Wednesday. My bad. I end up thinking far too much about what I want to write, instead of actually writing it and then suddenly it’s nine days later.
So without further procrastination, let’s talk about Zumba!
I started taking Zumba a few months ago with some friends at a local latin dance studio because of a Groupon deal. Luckily, my new gym offers a class, so I worked up the courage to go by myself. I wasn’t sure what to expect, except I did hope that the moves and music would be more hip-hop-y like I’d seen elsewhere, and less latin-ballroom-y like my last class.
I got to the gym early and waited in my car until the precise moment at which I had determined would allow me to stash my stuff in a locker and slowly make my way up the stairs (so I wouldn’t be out of breath) and through the GIANT weight floor to the GroupX classroom with just enough time to wait for a minute or two until we could go into the classroom (so I could assess my fellow Zumba-ers). I was not-so-secretly hoping that I wouldn’t be the heaviest one in the class, on top of it being my very first class all on my own.
The first thing I noticed was the clique of women standing in a tight circle in front of the door. They were watching everyone who approached the classroom, and giggling as they looked around for the instructor. Oh yay… Zumba high school. I picked out who I thought was the instructor as soon as she came up the stairs wearing a Zumba logo tank and neon green cargo pants. No one else was dressed like this (although, honestly I expected it) and The Clique looked disappointed when she went to the other door to wait.
Aw, poor clique.
There weren’t that many people waiting as the yoga class before us was packing up their stuff, so I figured it would be a pretty small class, but as I made my way into the room it was FULL and there were only a few spots left with any arm swinging room. What the hizzle?! I snagged a spot on the side of the room, nerves and excitement building, and looked around wondering if there was some secret portal everyone had suddenly appeared through. It didn’t occur to me until later that the yoga class hadn’t actually packed up their stuff and left… they’d packed up their stuff and stayed. Duh.
As the music came on and the class started, I realized five things:
- This was definitely the hip-hop-y, boisterous class I was hoping for. Yay!
- I was surrounded by skinny.
- The Clique had obviously been doing this for awhile because they knew every move before the instructor, and they were really good at it too.
- It’s a really good thing I’d taken any kind of Zumba before, otherwise I would have been even more of a spinning-dance-spaz than I was already being.
- I was most definitely coming back for more.
I really really really loved this class! The instructor went for 60+ minutes instead of the usual 50, because there wasn’t a class scheduled after ours. I am choosing to forgive the fact that she spent a large majority of the class bobbing her head to the music while not doing the routine; making faces at herself and others in the mirror while not doing the routine; and staring out through the back window into the weight room while not doing the routine. She did get the class pumped though, and was very energetic for the entire hour which I appreciate. Besides, she had clearly taught The Clique well and I was perfectly happy to watch them to pick up the moves for each song (did I mention they all ran to take all the front spots right in front of the instructor?) Anywho…
As the class gets to the last few songs, the booty shaking gets more frequent and more intense. It was a class largely made up of women, and our backsides were facing the window out into the giant man-filled weight room. Would anyone like to guess what happens to some men in the weight room when they notice a large group of women shakin’ their milkshakes?
Every time I looked in the mirror I noticed some of them were using equipment closer and closer to the classroom. It could have been a coincidence. Then I noticed those same men were no longer using their equipment, they were just standing at the equipment, staring into the classroom. Smooth gentleman… real smooth (and thanks for the blog fodder!).
A few final notes:
- I burned 610 calories in just a little over an hour!
- Half way through the class my competitive instincts kicked in and I decided that I would Zumba my way to being as good as /better than The Clique. It’s a personal goal, and that’s just how I roll.
- Sometimes I forget how long my hair is, and that it needs a pretty wide radius if I don’t want to hit anyone with it while I’m spinning in circles with a ponytail. This was one of those times, but this time I’d also braided it into a whip. Oops. I’m not sure I actually hit anyone with it, but the girl who started out behind me, was no longer behind me when class ended. So for everyone’s safety (including my own) I shall put it up from now on, because it really does hurt getting hit in the face with your own hair-whip.
Do you Zumba?
Do you have a favorite style of Zumba?