First Ever Zumba Class

Recently, I joined a gym.  I'm not really a 'gym person,' but the gap between the fit an unfit in the household has been getting unbearable lately.  With my current work, I don't need to move around much, or even put on shoes every day.  I've noticed that takes a toll on a lot when we go hiking, I'm the slowest, and I get absurd blisters. In the past, I was never able to justify the cost of a membership to somewhere close to home, given that I could go to the student gym across campus for free; I usually compromised by not working out at all. But even then I had to walk places sometimes. Anyway, this new fancy LA Fitness opened up in our neighborhood, and I joined at a discount thinking with my schedule the way it is, I may as well get the perk of being able to work out where there isn't another soul around.

I decided I should try to get to some different fitness classes and just generally shop the place around for a while.  This morning, despite the autumn crisp, I jumped in the car and run down for my first ever Zumba class.  I knew Zumba is some kind of loud music, energetic dance thing.  I've been told by everyone who has tried it you can't take yourself too seriously, and just have fun.  This is a good attitude for someone who doesn't learn choreography well, and is not in peak condition.

The girl teaching was super glad to see me, since I was the only student. So much for hiding in the back; looks like there is a downside to daytime workouts. I opted to stand to the right of the instructor so I could watch her in the mirror without tripping myself, but this also put me in front of the door, with its giant windows into the weight room.  I tried not to notice that we were clearly "on the tour" as trainers introduced new members to gym.  I like to imagine they would breeze past, saying, "And if showing off your lack of coordination is the easiest way for you to work out, it looks like we've got a friend for you."  Strangely, no one joined us for a dose of bad latin dance moves.

The instructor gamely showed me the 4 basic steps (salsa, cha-cha, reggaeton and bouncing around like a Sounders fan) and then we got started.  The music was turned up loud enough she couldn't hear my chorus of mumbling "1 2 double 4... no... one two cha cha ...3 ?"  That turned out to be a real advantage.  And as the class went on, and we were warmed up, or getting the feel of it, or whatever you call it, the class started to seem a lot less like dancing, and a lot more like bouncing around with my arms up like a crazy person. I'm not going to say I was good at it, but it was a really good workout.  Sometimes those classes aren't so good if you can't keep up, but as long as I kept cheerfully bouncing around the instructor was encouraging.  I actually wonder if it would be as good a workout if I could follow along better, and didn't substitute High Knees or something exhausting for every merengue step I couldn't keep track of. By the end, I was plumb tuckered and ready to get back to my mercifully sedentary job.

On my way to the gym, I briefly pondered that I might lift some weights or something if the class was short or easy, but fortunately, I just turned around and headed home instantly.  Thanks Zumba Instructor, I'm gonna go melt at my house now.  Now, I live about 5 min from this big gym, and like I said, I'm not in great shape, or generally familiar with what that might be like.  In fact, when I was about 2 minutes down the road, all my skin started to feel VERY HOT.  Unnaturally so.  Is this heat stroke?  Don't you usually pass out from too much exercise while you are doing it?  Omigosh, I only thought I ironically felt like I could die, am I ok? Should I be driving right now??  And then I noticed that the vents in the car were finally pumping in hot air.  Just past the nick of time.

Clearly, I survived my drive home, and even my first Zumba class.  There are some spin classes, and yoga and pilates and stuff that I'm hoping to go back to the gym and try.  Maybe once I am not too stiff to leave my office chair again.