For Today, I Will Dance

I don't know exactly how it happened, but over the past several months I become obsessed with Zumba. For any who are unfamiliar, this would be the workout craze sweeping gyms across the universe: Latin and International music with set dance routines in large, mirrored rooms. I was initially worried about a lot of things: 

 

1. I can't dance. At all. To say I have two left feet would be a nicety. 

2. I was worried about what others might think of my catastrophic attempts at coordinated motion. 

3. I was doubtful that I would ever learn the moves to any song, ever, in a proficient enough way to feel any measure of success in the class. 

The first five classes I did, I was pretty lost. And I had to swallow that inner hater who was wondering what people might be thinking. Pretty quickly, it no longer mattered. I learned that attending the same class time with the same instructor each week gave me the chance to actually learn the moves - and I surprised myself. I remembered more from week to week than I thought I would. And with that, I was hooked. I began to notice after working 3 classes in per week into my normal 5 day workout routine, I was able to isolate and move muscles in my hips and core that I hadn't known were there. But aside from that, what I've come to love best is the feeling of being in that room. Shimmying my shoulders, shaking my hips, and yes, even sometimes twirling, can evaporate the frustrations of the day in a far more resplendent way than sweating it out on the Spin bike. 

Today, as I was looking over the gym schedule, and in the few minutes I had before I rush off to a 5:00 PM class, I wanted to take a few moments to celebrate Zumba. Thanks to Zumba, working out is fun again. Thanks to Zumba, I've rediscovered my inner-sassyness: gone are the frumpy over-sized teeshirts I used to sport to the gym, ushered in are the racer back tanks and even a sweep of mascara on dance days, because I like to feel good about who I see in that mirror. Mostly, for that hour, I am thankful to be lost in music. I remember, on dance days, why people have gathered for thousands of years to dance together: it's in the celebration of movement that we can remember just how lucky we are to be healthy, strong, impassioned, and alive.