....about Thursday night's Zumba class.
I just heard a clamor that sounded a lot like the Hallelujah Chorus, and I couldn't make out all the words, but it sounded like, "You need to change your attitude about A LOT OF THINGS!!" You may all go sit in the corner now.
I've written before about how the instructor in Thursday night's class isn't as perky, fun, animated, lively, cute, fun, rhythmic, young, fun, or energetic as the instructor on Tuesday night. Besides that, I am convinced she is extremely musically challenged.
I will have just gotten in the groove of a new move (hee hee - I made a rhyme) when I look up and she has changed direction or inserted a new move or simply stopped in the MIDDLE of a freakin' 4-beat measure. IT DRIVES ME CRAZY!
I realize there are worse problems in the world, but tonight is my night to complain about this one. My blog, my rules, my complaints.
I try to be in the front of the Zumba class, because I have to see the instructor's feet. Besides, I got moved to the front of the room so many times when I was in school, I just naturally gravitate there anyway. Because I'm in the front, I'm certain this sweet lady can see me scowling and rolling my eyes. I'm not trying to be mean to her, but I get so frustrated!
Tonight I had to stop (well, not stop, since it would look ridiculous to stop in the middle of a song, especially being in the front and all) and ask myself the purpose of being there. Am I perfecting a routine for Broadway? Trying out for the Rockettes? Learning a dance so I can be like the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders?
No, no, and a resounding hell no.
I'm there to work out, work up a sweat, and have fun. If I can get past my own attitude, I'll be three for three.
I should be like this lady to my right tonight. (Tee hee - I did it again.) She was moving to the music, but her moves were nothing like ours. I don't mean she couldn't do it - she was choosing to do her own thing. It was like she was working hard to choreograph a new dance to every song. But she was clearly having a good time, and I didn't see HER scowling. She doesn't let it bother HER when the instructor changes moves in the middle of a measure; she's too busy doing her own moves anyway. (Although the first time I noticed her, I had the fleeting thought that she was having a seizure, and I was debating whether to try to help her or move to the other side of the room so I wouldn't get in the way.)
I don't want to stop going to Zumba on Thursdays, so I'm going to have to work on my attitude.
Great. Like THAT hasn't been a 50-year old work-in-progress.