The dance music is loud in my car. The parking lot is full. I notice people parking on the side street. And there are others like me, blasting their stereos, ready to get the party started -- on a Tuesday night.
I manage to grab a spot as someone is leaving the lot. Lucky me, no parking on the street. Nearby I smell tacos, cheesy enchiladas, and rice as I step out my car. But I don't allow it to distract me, that's not where I'm going. I'm ready. To get my dance on. To sweat.
I started going to Zumba classes a few months ago. It has refreshed my desire to workout, because it doesn't really seem like I'm working out. My teacher is a mother of five who has an awesome body. My classmates are in their 20s to late 40s, with an exception. There's a woman in her late 60s and she blends in well. Most of us aim to perfectly emulate our teacher's moves, but fail. No one cares or judges. We're having a great time burning calories and pretending we belong on "So You Think You Can Dance."
The class is so packed that the teacher pushes the sign-in table out the door to allow room for a few more. It's a little warm and humid in the room. But I don't see anyone complaining or leaving. I think it's because it feels like a party is going on. Who wouldn't have a good time doing the Salsa, Merengue and various Hip Hop moves to the latest dance and international music? One woman even belts out a hearty "ZUMBA!" randomly during each song and everyone is pumped up as we roll our hips again for the umpteenth time.
I love going to Zumba because it gives my running mind a break. There are no more reminders that Osama Bin Laden is still dead, no thoughts of how I need to wash dishes and finish laundry when I get home, no thoughts of what the kids need, are they behaving with hubby now, etc. Just a focus on the dance moves for the next song.
The trick is to find a workout that doesn't feel like work. I actually love exercising and getting sweaty. And it's starting to pay off; I'm back to my pre-pregnancy weight (pre Audrey). It's not where I want to be, but I'm seeing proof that I'm going in the right direction. I had to get my wedding ring re-sized after I had my son nearly four years ago. The ring was really loose when I Mamboed my way through Zumba last night.