Why I Sometimes Look Like The Thriller Video

So a few weeks ago I was congratulating myself on not making a fool of myself during the great Zumba experiment. In fact, I daresay that I might have gotten a little too boastful and mentioned something about being able to keep up. Ha ha ha, silly little earthling girl!

So tonight I'm there for my usual Monday night Zumba, feeling good about myself because, well, I'm exercising and no one is holding a gun to my head. Really, that's an extreme accomplishment for me all by itself. Add in that I'm exercising, willingly AND in public....hot damn! There's someone pushing the limits of their comfort zone right there! But I digress.

So I'm at Zumba and I'm giving myself my mental pep rally. "You can DO this! Woooooo! Zum-ba! Zum-ba! Zum-ba!" (For some reason it's a mental fraternity toga party instead of a pep rally tonight.) I'm standing ready, smiling at some of the other regulars, acting like I'm one of the coordinated people.

Then the music starts. And it just goes downhill from there.

Now, because my Zumba teacher does this class like a bazillion times a week instead of the measly once I drag myself there, she likes to change things up to be fresh and not just go through the motions. (Actually, I have no idea if that's true, but it sounds like it could be true, so let's just go with it.) Now remember, I'm one of those spastic, uncoordinated windmill-y type of exercisers. I feel most comfortable with something I've done 5 (hundred) times before. So when it gets changed up I'm in the back thinking, "Uh, which way do we go George, which way do we go?" I start to resemble a marionette whose strings got tangled and the puppeteer can't straighten them out. I'm zigging when I should be zagging, hopping when I should be bouncing, and dear lord, how does that woman shake like that? I swear she's related to Shakira. Those hips don't lie!

And if that's not bad enough, she pulls one of those turn around exercise moves. Listen, there's a reason I hide out in the back. It's part safety precaution so no one gets caught in the making of this Zumba class (Windmill arms and more bounce per ounce, yo!) and part "Holy crap I'm glad no one's behind me watching these spazz moves." But when we turn around, NOW there's an entire damn class behind me! I'm fervently (I love this word but I get a little too happy adding r's. Thanks, spell check!) praying that they're so busy trying to keep themselves in sync that they aren't seeing the freak in the front. Which is me. And just in case I wasn't sure they'd see me, I'm wearing an eye catching hot pink shirt. It's like a beacon shouting, "Hey-ey, look at this hot mess!"

Sometimes I can rebound better than others and it only takes me a minute to figure out where myself is supposed to be. Other times I can't get out of my own way and I think I forgot to bring the right foot with me and grabbed two left ones instead. Those are the nights I start to look like I'm re-enacting the Thriller video. On Day 1, not the smooth choreography at the end though. But I'm okay with it. Because one day (everyone will be sick and I'll be the only one there) I'll have the chance to win the Zumba trophy. Wait, what do you mean there's no trophy?