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So recently I tried Zumba. I’ve been thinking about trying it for a while, and for the past few weeks I’ve been lurking outside the class, sizing up the dance moves and the participants. I was a bit worried that I would be the least coordinated, most jiggly person there. See, I live in a city that is known for its Beautiful Women—here in Southern California it seems that somehow everyone is 22, tanned, and gorgeous. Except me. And, as it turns out, most of the participants in my YMCA’s Zumba class! Hooray for sassy old ladies and one middle-aged bald man!
Anyway, I snuck in just as class was starting and found a spot in the back. To my right was the lone male member of the class, who may have just been there to check out the instructor (she was hot, so I can’t totally blame him). I was a little uncomfortable at first dancing all sexy-like next to a guy, but then I remembered that I’m almost 40 and at the very tippy-top of the “healthy” section of the BMI chart…so the poor guy was probably not going to get whiplash from being around me. To my left was a Workout Queen in brand-new spotless white shoes, makeup, and a super-cute outfit. I was a little nervous about her. In situations like these, I like to be surrounded by mediocrity so I can blend in. She looked like she might just kick Zumba’s ass, leaving me and Mr. Shufflefoot in her dust.
Turns out I didn’t need to worry about her—she seemed not to like the whole sweat factor involved and left the class within 10 minutes. What I needed to be worried about was Zumba itself. Don’t get me wrong, it was a ton of fun. I jumped around with a huge smile on my face for a while. Because I wasn’t standing where I could see a mirror, I figured I looked like this:
Check out the blog at http://www.crazedinthekitchen.com/2012/02/how-to-look-like-chicken-... to see the pix and read the rest.