It's Zumba flavoured. As mentioned earlier, my first glass was prepared by my loving mother, who reminds us all that, "Everyone should sweat an hour a day. But whatever you can do dear is good."
Ovando and I took a class that is sponsored by our employer. It's reduced cost, it's close to work (and home in my case) and it's offered at a time I can realistically get to and from.
That's a lot of pros right? Well, it's not in a gym, it's in a cleared out conference room, with perhaps a few too many windows for my preference, but people don't linger so we are relatively alone.
The sound system is a little boom box. Per the regulars' request the instructor has inserted an abdominal set towards the end. (ugh)
But everyone is really nice, there is no pretension and the class moves quickly. I sweat like a beast, running in my eyes towards the end, but still have enough energy to laugh if I can.
I went to another class last night. Ovando is on vacation and it's always a true test if you can make it to exercise without your buddy. I still liked it. I liked how I felt. I liked how well I slept. I liked how when I was sweating I literally felt like I was melting, not like a fat blob since I was having fun and wasn't all self conscious.
I said, "Geez this is nice." or something else sort of gosh gee willikers outloud and another lady said, "Yes, and there are no mirrors." ha! I never even thought about that. But yeah, that is really liberating.
Today I found myself looking for other classes on days I might be able to make it. I think I found one or two to check out ...
I don't think I'll be looking for "Zumba outfits" anytime soon, but I think I'm going to enjoy the kool-aid for as long as I can.
So last week Tom, Yoshi and I took our first family-zumba class. Tom said it was the hardest class he's ever taken (due to his lack of any rhythm). It was really fun though! I feel like I need to get me some cargo parachute pants and a whistle and relive those Raver days all over again.
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