Tag Archives: Zumba
I think I mentioned something about adventures at the gym last time. I’m not actually that adventurous there. I rode on the exercise bike a few minutes once, but couldn’t figure out how to adjust anything so had no idea how far I’d pretend biked. I might have been going backwards. I’m not sure if your calories are subtracted that way or added back on.
They offer exercise classes at this gym. I tried a Zumba class once. I thought it sounded like fun. Yay, a little light dancing. I am an idiot. Our teacher arrived. She wasn’t any skinny mini, so I thought, cool, she’s not going to kill us. I failed to realize that you can be a little chunky and still have the energy of a cocker spaniel. She led us in a lot of dance moves involving hip shaking or Zumba-ing. It was not so bad at first. The music was nice and upbeat. I was breaking a decent sweat. 15 minutes passed. So far so good. She’s going to stop any second now. 25 minutes. Okay, so she’s going to go a half hour. I can do this.
35 minutes. Wait a second, she has still not stopped. What the hell does she think she’s doing? Did I accidentally enter Amazon boot camp? What are those little dots whooshing through the air? Am I seeing flying elves? I really think we should stop. 45 minutes. You know how they say when you die you see your life pass before your eyes? I saw mine and it wasn’t very exciting. 50 minutes and all that water that used to be inside my body had materialized outside my body in drops of delightful sweat. Finally we hit 60 minutes and she stopped and I somehow kept from collapsing right on the ground. Had I done so, I probably would have been there the entire weekend. No more Zumba-ing for me, at least not with Wonder Woman there.
I went back to the treadmill, which really is the safest thing. Some people get bored on the treadmill because you walk and walk and never get anywhere. Story of my life, people. The great thing about the treadmill is that you don’t have to be outdoors with nature. Nature hates me and makes me sick what with the trees and the grass and the pollen and the air and crap. And let’s not forget all those natural dangers like dogs, cars, and sudden drops in the pavement. None of that with the treadmill. Just easy going walk, walk, walking while I listen to “Gangham Style” and other high brow musical selections.
Well it was easy going, anyway. Until last week when more people showed up at the gym than I was used to and just messed everything up. People. Oh, well, I could go to the treadmill on the far side of the room. I did and everything was walky paradise until, crap, some lady gets on the treadmill right beside mine. Really? Did she not understand the concept of space bubble? No matter, I can ignore her with my “U Can’t Touch This”. Take me away, Hammer! This works for a while until this lady, apparently related to the Zumba Amazon, decides up the speed as fast as it can go and, good Lord, run on the treadmill.
Thump, thump, thump, THUMP! My treadmill starts to shake in response to hers. Oh, goody, now it can be like I’m walking on a sailing ship. Just what I always wanted. I look at her out of the corner of my eye and do my best Jedi impression. “You want to leave the gym and look into another form of exercise.” I think at her. I think this really hard. It has no effect. I am tempted to tell her that, hey, my ovaries are just as big as hers are. I’m just taking it slow here. Oh, and lady, did you know that you are destroying the cartilage in your knees right now? Working on that knee replacement, eh? Lady?
She finally slows down and starts walking again. Good. Then she has enough of a break and starts running from an unseen force of evil, I guess. It’s like one of those horror films. Lady, you are never going to get away from the monster like this unless he too is running on a treadmill. I will say this is the first woman I’ve seen be so fanatical about her training. I see men doing it all the time, and I, once again, am often tempted to tell them I am very sorry about their personal equipment and how it isn’t up to snuff. Thankfully, these thoughts remain in my head and thus I remain breathing.
Honestly, I don’t really care if you run on a treadmill or lift weights and drop them from 20 feet over and over again so that you can make that big loud bang like toddlers with their Lincoln logs. I just want you to please do it far away from me, thanks. But that’s the problem with gyms. Other people. Which is why I decided it would be good to get my own in home equipment. This should be interesting. More next week. For now, learn from Goofy, an expert at the gym.