White girls can Zumba

At work we have a wonderful fitness center on the ninth floor, and I’ve gone there a few times, but because I pay for a membership at 24-Hour Fitness Hawaii Kai, I tend to use that facility more.

However, the rumbles of Zumba have been going on at work for a while, and several of my colleagues in Marketing and Communications go. Now I know why! The center is now offering 30-minute Zumba classes, and the Monday and Thursday 4 p.m. sessions suits my schedule just fine. Yay! Not an hour! I’m so ashamed, but hey, 30 minutes? I’m there!

Last night I went for the first time. The instructors don’t really do much for cues so I was flailing about like a hopeless squid out of water. I apologized twice to the participants behind me. Their arms went up, my arms went down. My legs went out when their legs were in. My hip twitch wasn’t nearly as sensual. I had two left feet. They could say “Grapevine!” a couple of  times, but they didn’t!

Bottom line? I was the token white girl. LOL!

I’ve never had dance lessons beyond learning to line dance to In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida with my cousins. When you went out dancing in the 70s and 80s, you didn’t need real choreography. And I dare say that my friends in Zumba class would say it’s easy and you don’t need to watch Dancing With the Stars to succeed.

After the first 10 minutes last night, I was looking at the clock and thinking, OMG that’s IT? I had already worked up a sweat, my heart-rate monitor indicated I was at about 150 beats per minute, and my healed Achille’s tendon didn’t complain.

I have always been the girl who did things even though it might be embarrassing or I might get laughed at. So taking Zumba and not getting it right the whole time was how I expected it to go. What matters is I had a great workout and it was fun. Fortunately for me, everyone around me was EXCELLENT and didn’t pay me any mind. The after-work session is perfect. When I’m done I can just hop into the van and drive back to East Oahu to scoop the girls up from school.

It’s always been my thinking that you don’t judge an activity by a single experience, even before one of the instructors waved at me in the parking lot and said, “SEE YA THURSDAY!”  So I decided to return, to hang out in the back, and to see if I can coax my inner soul sister, my inner sensual and fluid latina dancerina, to surface. After all, I totally aced the Jane Fonda Workout back in 1981!