Yes, you read that right.
Picture it for a moment. Me. Scared to try a new class. Especially a Latin Fusion dance class, with my oversized butt trying desperately to shake my hips. Especially since I have no rhythm. And I’m still sore from previous workouts. But I’m motivated and driven to bring about change. And so, I bravely forge ahead into the unknown.
I scrutinize my wardrobe, not knowing what to wear. I pick out something and husband approves - black workout shorts and a blue top. Secretly, I’m fashioning hot pink sports bra and panties beneath it all. It makes me feel energetic… and girly… and ready for this my first class!
I stride into the gym confidently, grab a water, and secure my bag in my locker. Then head up to the studio. It’s a pretty big class, but not everyone is ‘in shape’ so I’m feeling ok about it. I scope it out for a minute before entering the studio, and decide to press onward. I take a spot at the very back left corner. Mirrors abound, but I try not to catch my own awkward image.
The music begins and I give it my all. Shaking and thrusting those bumbling hips. Trying to learn the steps. I am confident and do not give up despite my two clumsy left feet. The clock ticks slowly but I persist inelegantly. Sweat drips. Tick. Tick. Tick. Turn, spin, face left, face right. Mamba, cha cha… I don’t know the difference, but I think I’m making the effort. 60 full minutes.
I’m exhausted, but proud of my graceless performance. I did it. I wasn’t intimidated. I worked hard. Burned Calories. Kicked butt - again today! I’m on top of the world, now that it is over. I rush down to the locker room as quickly as my weary legs can take me, which is comparable to a snail’s pace. I gulp down 30 oz of water to rehydrate myself, and just chill for about 10 min before heading back out the door and to the car.
Blasting the A/C and the radio, I slowly cruise home. I’m still unsure if I want to add this class to my weekly routine, and I’m reviewing it all in my head. I arrive at home and review the experience with my husband and friend. It wasn’t THAT bad. All is well, maybe I’ll go once a week just to ’shake things up’. Haha… pun intended.
Suddenly I realize I’m hungry and go to grab a banana. I walk toward the kitchen and my husband says. “You didn’t wear those shorts to class, did you?” I stop in my tracks. What does this mean? What’s wrong with my shorts. That’s when he tells me there is a 2″ rip down the seam in the back and my glowing pink panties are there for all the world to see.
I relive it all in my head. Picture it with me once more. Shaking and thrusting those bumbling hips. The clock ticks slowly but I persist inelegantly. Sweat drips. Tick. Tick. Tick. Turn, spin, face left, face right. Mamba, cha cha… ALL OF IT WITH A GAPING HOLE IN MY SHORTS AND PINK PANTIES EXPOSED!!!
Tell me your workout was worse than THAT!!!!