In January, we got a 90-day pass to the local community center because winter is cold and the kids need to a place to get their energy out. Well, it’s only been super cold, like, twice… but we’ve gotten a ton of use from our membership. We go swimming on Tuesday nights, Jackson attends several little kid classes, I like the aerobic classes, and Derek uses the equipment.
I haven’t been on a Thursday morning before, but it worked with our schedule to go this morning, so we went! The aerobics class offered was a Zumba strength training class. I like zumba and I do a strength training class too, so it sounded like a good pick!
Today was a funny day in my head. Just bizarre. Random thoughts all during class and I thought I’d share.
- Zumba Strength Training. Cool! Sounds fun.
- Okay, so I’m five minutes late… there is still 55 minutes left for a good work out!
- Oh! My favorite spot in the *very* back is open!
- Three pound weights it is! Plus, they are a cuter than the 2’s {sissy} or 4’s
- I haven’t had this instructor before—she’s so cute and peppy!
- Standing next to a dude! I didn’t know guys did Zumba! {I may or may not have chuckled at the thought of Derek joining me for a class. I think it’d be totally fun, but he wouldn’t do Zumba in a class full of people in his life depended on it!}
- Holy cow! That guy is TALL! I feel tiny. {awesome feeling!}
- Oh, I love this song!!! {Stronger by Kelly Clarkson} And then about 30 seconds later after doing a bazillion squat jumps to the chorus, "Whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger"… Ohmigoodness, I hate this song!
- Whew! A song where my classmates are taking turns creating moves. I need a breather.
- Holy crap! Stupid overachievers. No need to suck up—there’s no grade!
- Strength training Zumba… who thought of this!? My arms are killing me! I should have gone for the 2s!
- Ha! We’re divided up and facing each other like a dance off. Yes, a room full of white girls {and one tall, buff, zumba dancing black man.} I’m going to pretend I’m in Step it Up.
- Mental Image: If any of us suburban KC folks actually made it to a dance-off in the inner city, we’d probably be mugged before we could show off our lame skills. {This image kept me occupied the ENTIRE song. Haha. I’m still laughing}.
- Back to my normal spot on the back. Why can I see myself in the mirror? I am in the 5th row! It’s not a pretty sight, I don’t want to watch!
- Ugh! How can my cute and peppy instructor still looks cute and peppy! I am a complete HOT MESS!
- Why do I see the childcare working holding Belle and looking for me?! I interrupt my mad zumba skills to go see.
- Poopy! Great. I get 60 minutes to work out and you poop now!? The diaper bag is my car. As to not waste my exercising moments, I run to the car and back to keep the heart rate up.
- Okay, diapers changed. Quit making me feel guilty by that crying everytime I drop you off!
- Seriously, this guy is so tall. His arms span is practically the same as the two girls in front of him! Pfft. Look at him and his 8 pound weights.
- Salsa dancing is seriously such an ab workout. How do they make it look so easy?! I am such a white girl.
- Uhm, I don’t think push-ups count as a cool down exercise. Forget that! I gotta go pick up my kids!
Fortunately, no pictures of zumba are available. I do have some pictures of the fun things Jackson gets to do in class while I exercise! Along with the simple activities like running around the gym and playing Duck, Duck, Goose—the classes are full of fun activities.
This day they had a little obstacle course—a wedge for doing summersaults, basketball hoop, “river rocks” to jump over, a balance beam, and something with bean bags.
And another day they got out the big parachute.
Most days I don’t really know what he does in class because I, myself, am in a class. But on these days, I was working out on the eliptical machine right where I could watch. It’s so fun to peek on him. He thought it was so fun to go under the parachute.
Side note: You couldn’t pay me enough to be the teachers of these classes. Complete and total chaos.