Zumba Fitness: How would that have looked? Me, being peeled off the floor in spandex.

Thump a thump, thump a thump, thump a thump… *Reggaeton beat* …that’s right, folks, I was back!  Yay, Zumba® Fitness!

Copyright: Zumba Fitness, LLC

Copyright: Zumba Fitness, LLC

I hadn’t “joined the party” since the summer of last year, which means it had been a while since I’d stepped foot in my gym to enjoy a Zumba® class.  This was going to be interesting.

We, me, my cousin and aunt had a rough series of months last year with The Second Mother and 2012 was simply the worst for me at the office.  I felt I needed to put any attempt of a regular schedule to take care of my health on the back burner.  I felt this, yes.  But frankly, there’s something wrong with this thinking.  Family first, yes.  But family first at the expense of my health completely?  I need to take a step back and think, was this decision to stop all exercise wise?  When I look around at members of my family, it is very clear to me, if I do not take care of myself, things are not going turn out well for this 5-inch stiletto-wearing marketing chick in the slightest in a few years.

There was a time when I was going to the gym at least 4 times per week.  I should have, could have, cut down to twice per week, not cut it out completely.  That was a mistake.

As for work, well, that was an even bigger mistake.  My job and how much I have put the company I work for first ahead of all things for years was wrong on so many levels.  My job should never, ever have been a factor in my decision not to take care of myself.  Ever.  Which brings me back to so many things I’ve said about my situation at work and about my career in so many posts on this blog.  (Check out Work & Career on this space working your way back through “Older posts”.)  Even when I wasn’t working late, I was so mentally and emotionally drained when the day was over, I was incapable of channeling any strength to physically do anything.  A Zumba® class, a bootcamp class, any class, was out of the question.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It was such a terrific feeling to walk back into the plain, cramped studio to join the 25-plus ladies who would be attending the first Zumba® class of 2013.  I was nervous.  When you haven’t exercised consistently for a long time, you wonder if you can at the most basic level keep up.  I’d always loved attending Zumba® classes.  A mix of dance, lots of aerobics, and music pumping Reggaeton, and like tonight, a 1980s tune (just one, I promise!), it definitely is a great workout for 45 minutes to an hour.  Nothing like Afro-Latino Caribbean tunes to help you work up a sweat while shaking body parts!

Although I was nervous, as the class progressed, I grew more enthusiastic.  I was moving as much as I could, but it was clear as day:  Gone were the days way, way, way back in 2012 — when this class was a regular item on my agenda — that I could move without catching my breath.  I took numerous gulps (not sips) during class.  My inhaler was nowhere near me — bad move, but somehow, every time I thought the end was near, Someone from upon high was on my side.  Coincidentally, the music would slow and I’d get a couple of minutes to pull myself back together.  Thank God.

I’m serious…at one point during a song switch, I stared in the mirror and thought, “Don’t pass out.”

I didn’t imagine I would be starting from zero, but obviously, I was.  The compliments from my instructor about me keeping up well in the class and how good I looked was too kind.

If she only knew…

I didn’t want them to call an ambulance to revive a pint sizer.  How would that have looked?  Me, being peeled off the floor in spandex.

Jesus.

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