I still can’t believe it happened.
I attended a Jazzercise class on Friday morning.
Jazzercise. And me. Me and Jazzercise.
It kinda feels like a dream.
My mom purchased some vouchers through one of those “daily deal” emails that comes every day. (Side note: those businesses are cropping up EV-ER-Y-WHERE. And I spend way too much money on supposed “deals” that I never would have spent money on if the “deal” hadn’t shown up in my inbox that morning …. Someone had a rather bright idea to make some cash. End sidenote.)
So, we went. To Jazzercise.
Pretty sure I was the youngest woman there.
Pretty sure I’ve never seen so many different types of flowery work-out apparel.
Pretty sure the rather elderly lady next to me was wearing ear plugs.
Pretty sure I’m not sure why … ??
I picked up the routines quickly, and had a grand time people watching. Or, be-hind watching, since I was at the back of the group and could really only stare at 17 different ladies’ derrieres for 55 minutes.
At one point–no joke–one lady can be-boppin’ in with a terry cloth headband, a baggy sweathshirt, gray leggings … and peeking out below the hem of the sweatshirt, I actually saw, get this–a navy blue leotard. OVER the gray leggings. This high energy, Jazzercise lover must have been over 55.
Moral of the story? Life lesson for me?
One would do well to turn off the BeachBody DVD, which contains perfectly sculpted L.A. blondes with hourglass figures and washboard abs, and instead high tail it over to the local Jazzercise class.
These are real women. Women who have jobs, and families, and have given birth, and ate too many Girl Scout cookies last night. These women struggle to fit exercise into their days, they struggle to fit into size 10 jeans, and they struggle to do more than 20 sit ups.
But these are real women. I’ve never felt so good about myself when working out. I’ve never felt so … normal. I didn’t compare myself to anyone (or anyone’s abs). (Well, I must admit–there was this cute little lady, probably 60, in front of me with the tiniest little waist and great deltoids. But beyond that … no comparing.)
I just enjoyed working out. To good music. With a bunch of ladies I’ve never met, but ended up feeling camaraderie with. So, here’s to Jazzercise–may I continue to learn the difference between a box step and sashay, and burn some calories while I do it.