Suffering from "Flintstone Knee" as a result of the Halloween flash-mob from the day before, I limped along, staggered up the stairs, and arrived on the track only to be confronted with my worst nightmare: A group of Zumba goddesses. Stretching. Smiling. Pulling their glossy manes up into perky ponytails. Sipping their tasteless water. Did I mention the smiling? These women were sleek. Tone. I looked down at my cute Zumba clothes and realized that I looked like a canister of squishy biscuits that had exploded. I began inching toward the door.
"Amy...come over by the mirrors," lead Zumba goddess, Felicia called. Oh hell, no. As my escape had been thwarted, I wiggled into the back row, my friend Erin situated between me and those soul-crushing mirrors. Forget Harry Potter's Mirror of Erised that showed you your heart's desire. These mirrors added thirty pounds, illuminated your cellulite, and shattered your self-esteem. Unfortunately for me, Erin is so tiny that my hips and thighs unfurled behind her reflection like a sick pair of butterfly wings. "We'll be going 45-minutes," Felicia announced, to my great alarm, "with the last 15 minutes comprised of stretching." Whew...good thing I wore my watch. I secretly elected myself Keeper of the Time. "Give me a signal if you need to slow down or stop," Felicia told us. I immediately flashed her a sign. "Thanks, Amy," Felicia smiled. "If it gets bad...flash me TWO of those." Cue the music.
Word to the wise: Zumba would be much easier if:
A. If was done in the dark or individualized cubicles.
B. If you knew your left from your right.
C. If you had any rhythm AT ALL.
D. If you were even slightly in shape.
We spent most of the first song going right and left. Felicia started pointing as going right and left turned out to be impossible for me. The song finally ended and I clapped enthusiastically. Confused...the Zumba goddesses also clapped. "Don't forget to hydrate, ladies," I encouraged, racing to my Pepsi. Back in line, the next set began where I was now asked to pop my booty. No worries there...my booty had deflated YEARS ago. Erin assaulted me several times with her booty-poppin' so I moved away from her to what must have been the ringer in the group. "Pssst," I hissed at a woman I didn't know but who could clearly teach J-Lo to dance, "How are you doing that?" I gestured at her impressive booty poppin'. Creeped-out or complimented, I'm not sure, but either way, she'd been thrown off her booty poppin' pattern and began giggling. "Amy...get away from my mother," Felicia called. Disappointed not to be receiving individualized booty poppin' instruction, I flashed Felicia a sign and got back in line. The song ended. I clapped, checked my watch, and reminded everyone to hydrate. Felicia meandered over. "Amy," she told me helpfully, "It isn't required to clap after every song." I thanked her for the tip. Everyone was congratulating one another on their stellar Zumba-ing. Not wanting to be left out, I tried reminiscing with my friend Dee to legitimize my presence here among these exercising experts. "Remember when we were in that marathon together?" I asked her. Everyone fell silent. They'd witnessed my abilities...a marathon? Dee's eyes widened. Honest-to-the-core, she would not condone my pulling her into an imaginary memory. "Remember..." I insisted, "I held your keys?" She laughed. "That's right," she said, "You did a great job!"
Felicia herded us back into place. Yes...I used "herd" for a reason. I felt like the lone cow amongst a pasture of thoroughbred fillies. And not even a dairy cow. A beefer. As Keeper of the Time, I helpfully informed Felicia that it was time to stretch. "Not yet, Amy," she answered, "We have one more set." I glanced longingly at my Pepsi. "Does anyone know how to waffle?" Felicia asked. I nodded eagerly. "I know how to make waffles," I shared happily. Now THIS was exercising! "Not waffle, Amy. Wobble. It's a move." I nodded again. This couldn't be too bad. I've wobbled my whole life. Turns out what Felicia calls wobbling, I call reeling in the fish. Wheee! This was fun! Oops. No. I wobbled over-zealously and an hour later would not be able to move my shoulders. I didn't know I had muscles in my shoulders! The song ended. I clapped. We stretched. Felicia contorted her body into some sort of twisted puzzle piece that I was supposed to emulate. I hyperventilated, laughing at the idea of even being able to get up off the floor without a hoist. I glanced at my watch (Alright...I admit it...I had NEVER stopped staring at it!), "Time!" I announced! I grabbed my Pepsi and was GONE. "Do you think she'll come back to the next session?" someone asked Rachel, following my quick exit. "Absolutely," Rachel answered with conviction. "How do you know?" Rachel grinned, "She bought TWO Zumba shirts."
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