I have a confession to make…..I can’t dance.
I know, I know…a Latina that can’t dance? How can this be possible? Maybe it’s because when I was growing up and all the women were in the kitchen cooking and dancing, I was outside playing football with the boys. (My grandmother told me once that I needed to stop spending so much time doing boy things because they wouldn’t look at me as a girl…I wasn’t feminine enough. HA!)
I have rhythm. I love music, and I love to shake my booty. But when it comes down to it, I just don’t have it. This is one of the reasons I’ve avoided Zumba. I envisioned myself bumping into the person next to me,(check!) tripping over my own two feet, (check!) and being so far behind that I’d have to stop so I could catch up (check!) Oh, and laughing at myself for being so uncoordinated. (DOUBLE CHECK!)
Did I mention I can’t dance?
I looked like a fool out there, arms flying in the wrong direction, booty shaking one step behind everyone else. Truth be told, I really didn’t care what I looked like, but it may have been because I spent so much time trying to figure out which side of the room I was supposed to be facing.
I did like the energy of the class though. The instructor was cute…not sexual cute but happy cute, and I’d probably go back just for him. Well, him and the old ladies that were trying so hard to keep up. They all had smiles on their faces and I couldn’t help but join them.
Have you gotten hit with the Zumba craze? I’m afraid I’ll end up hurting myself … my knees hurt with all the “gettin’ low” that was going on.
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