There is a bit of insanity in dancing that does everybody a great deal of good. ~Edwin Denby
I haven’t been to Zumba in two weeks and that just doesn’t work for me. I can’t not dance. Tuesdays and Fridays belong to me and my Zumba class so leave me alone. Go wherever you need to go without me. There I said it, and I’ll keep saying it. Unless you’re in a hospital bed or my job depends on it, hence the two weeks that have gone by, don’t call me for anything on Tuesday or Friday. Oh yeah and unless you’re my mother who can’t seem to get the Friday thing down.
Let me just say that I am not a dancer. Let me also say that I am not an athlete so when my big fat ass started getting bigger and fatter I was in quite the dilemma. Enter Zumbablast with Melissa Avalo.
Zumba is a Latin inspired dance class that gets you moving and having a blast while burning between 800-1000 calories per hour depending on your personal intensity. I am intense, I dance with abandon, and I am in the zone. Just don’t put me in a room with mirrors it cramps my style a bit.
Missy is a little dynamo that creates choreography that is inspiring. As you grow older they say that you should challenge your brain by doing little things that reconnect your synapses in different ways like brushing your teeth with your other hand or going to work a different way. Seriously, just try learning Missy’s new choreography every couple of weeks and you’ll be fine. I won’t be brushing my teeth with my other hand any time soon.
There are Zumba girls that I usually dance with but they have lives unlike mine that are filled with school functions and family obligations. I have learned to go alone. I understand doing things alone, probably better than most, but this was way out of my comfort zone.
With every drop of sweat that comes out of me I am revitalized. My troubles are gone, I can think, I believe that I will someday be able to learn salsa dancing and actually go out dancing with someone special (hopefully without having to wear two sport bras, don’t ask). I missed much of that when I was younger and it remains one of my regrets to be turned into something affirmative. I’m no Adele, I don’t live in “regrets and mistakes they’re memories made…”
The ride home is always windows open (sometimes regardless of the temperature), radio blaring the dance station and a smile on my very red face. Once I get home it’s a quick dog walk, a screaming hot shower, two or three preventative aspirin and a great night’s sleep.
Thank you Missy, you can’t begin to know the gratitude I have for you and your Zumbablast.