On Loving Zumba in Time for Resolutions

I borrowed this image from zumbapants.com

Zumba is a stupid amount of fun.

Here’s what has happened to me: I WANT to exercise.

When I think about it real hard, I’m still kind of in shock.

But I go exercise, and even though I’m spending like 10 hours a week I would’ve told you I don’t have a month ago doing the Zumba thing, I have more time.

I’m not 55 yet, but I think this is probably a relevant study.

I was looking for this post by Julianna Baggott where she says if you’re stuck with writing, get up and get sweaty. I can’t find the post.  Her blog doesn’t have a search button.  She should get one.  But go read it.  She’s a brilliant writer and a warm, generous, lovely human being.

Anyway, I don’t want give her total credit for really deciding to be a working out person, but I’d be lying if I said her say-so had nothing to do with it.  Reading that was really the first time it occurred to me that my brain could be addled by my sedentary lifestyle.  I like my brain.  It’s my best body part.  I want it to work well.

Zumba delivers: when I wake up, my brain seems to be without those queer ridges that mangle my ability to put one thought before another.

Whenever I go to Zumba in the morning, I return more focused and aware and able to push myself through task after task.  Whenever I feel like my body is going to literally stop moving during a Zumba class, I keep moving and sweat some more and the feeling passes, and it Still. Feels. Great. (Even though it hurts.  This psychology-of-an-exercisey-person is a little nuts.)

I have more patience toward Child, and I find the pile of things to do that I put on my own plate to look more like a bowl of doable and less like a rock mountain I’ll never reach the top of.

Yes.  I have achy muscles.  I imagine I will for some time to come.  I am at least 60 lbs overweight. I have some kind of neurosis about weighing myself, so I don’t actually know what I weigh.  I know the range, based on the fit of my pants, but I should probably address that.

I’m also pretty sure I have a mild case of shin splints.

But a smaller amount of food makes me full.

And my wiggle jiggles less. Going up a flight of stairs doesn’t get me all doubled-over-winded, and it doesn’t hurt as much.  Also, I’m pretty sure my waistline has descended by one inch.  And this is after only three solid weeks.

Seriously.  According to CardioTrainer on my Droid X Smartphone, I burn 976 calories in every Zumba class.

I want to go to Zumba every day.  I have to make myself take 2 days off.  I hear that’s a good idea.

So what I’m saying is that if you’re telling yourself that it’s time to start exercising, and you are–as I was–someone who never previously engaged in non-vocational physical exertion with any regularity, I recommend the hell out of Zumba.

Tis the season to hold yourself to dubious standards.

Fa la la la, la la la la.

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Author: April Line Writing

Writing about whatever the f*ck I want.

3 thoughts on “On Loving Zumba in Time for Resolutions”

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