Melissa Does Zumba®

When I do workout classes, I expect to move.

I also expect certain types of movement. Burpees, Crabwalks, Planks.

So, when a friend asked me to try her Zumba® class, I groaned.

That is not a judgement of those who love it. It's just, dear reader, that I am the biggest clutz in the world. My experience with Latin music only really extends to that time I was in a musical number from West Side Story.

I was a Shark girl, pouting about not being Maria (because I had some kind of illusion that I was a coloratura soprano. Pfffft) and I couldn't get the moves in the "Dance in the gym number," becoming frustrated, the choreographer told me "Melissa. You have a large butt. When you get lost, just move the same direction as every one else and shake that tush."

This...is how I explain Zumba.

I look like none of these people by the way.

But the high point of the class is that no matter how bad you look, there is always someone worse than you. So there's that.
The thing is, no one cares how their neighbor looks. The first thing my instructor told the class was, "Don't worry about the choreography. Just move and have fun."

Because I am just an observational person by nature, I looked around during the 10 songs we did and everyone was smiling and happy. Sometimes they were just making up their own moves...but dang it...they were smiling

If you decide to take a class, you can expect a two to three song warmup comprising of some basic step-ball-changes, grapevines, and squats.

Then "la caca" gets real. You will do a series of repetitive moves that usually add on more complex movements as you go along. The instructor servers as sort of your "bailar" flight attendant with hand motions that border on, "in case of a lack of oxygen, grab your overhead mask."

Those hand motions give you beat counts, indicate turns, a directions your steps will take.

So was I lost on more than one occasion? Yes. Were they people in there that looked as though they were taking an entirely different class? Yes.

Who cares? They were having fun. And I actually had fun.