What’s the Point of Having a Big Butt if You’re Not Going to Shake it? Hello again, Zumba!

It’s been far too long since I Zumba-ed (if you can make it a verb). But we finally reunited. I arrived in a good mood since I rode my bike there along the pond. What’s better than a bike ride along a body of water, thinking of plot lines and dialog in your book… I digress.

I’m very picky about gym classes and wary of one kind of torture — trying a gym class and realizing it’s not for you. Then suffering through movements for 55 more minutes until you can leave. I suppose I could be rude and leave, but I don’t… I gave up on Pilates since I couldn’t find an instructor as good as my first one. So although I loved my Zumba class at my former gym, I thought it might be the same fruitless pursuit. Since my new gym was voted one of the best in Boston for Zumba, it was time to give it a whirl.

Within the first song, I was hooked. A woman older than me shaking it like she was possessed with demons. And doing it sexy as hell, too. Anytime I’m encouraged to channel my inner crazy bitch and shake my big ole butt, hell yeah, I’m on board!

It inspired me so much that I’m going out dancing with my friends tonight. I don’t even remember the last time we did that. Starting off with a time warp watching Rick Springfield at the Hatch Shell and singing Jesse’s Girl like we’re still in 2nd grade, continuing through the 80s and 90s with retro/punk at a club, and maybe even making it to today’s music at another club in Cambridge. Dancing through time, baby.

All thanks to Zumba. Summer of dancing starts now!

 

 

 

 

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