Jazz Hands

Well, I've gone and done it. I've done something that would make 16 year old Tricia (shoot, even 24 year old Tricia) shudder with disgust. I joined dun, dun, duuuun... Jazzercise. Eeeeek! No, this isn't a scary tale to get you ready for Halloween. This is the honest to God truth.

You all have heard continuously about my struggle to lose weight. Or, more fittingly, my struggle with will power. I'll start something and do it for a day or two and then quit because I'm being inconvenienced. Well, one of my new co-workers goes to a Jazzercise class right down the street from my house and made it sound really fun and somehow talked me into going. I was somehow able to talk my mom into going with me. The way I see it, we'll be doing something other than sitting on the couch and we can hopefully lose weight and get in shape. Plus, now that we're both going, it'll be motivation to keep going.

So we get to Jazzercise class and start to fill out our paperwork. All the other ladies (and gentlemen) start to arrive for class. I was immediately struck by the number of older and elderly people and the fact that almost everyone was in spandex. I have to admit that I was very cocky going into the class. After all, I'm a 28 year old former cheerleader with tons of rhythm and dance experience. If those old fogies could Jazzercise, it should be no problem for me.

I got prepped with my five pound dumbbells and my medium intensity resistance band and me and mom took our places in the middle of the room. We were ready to go. Then the music started. Wow. I quickly realized I'm not the same cute cheerleader who can dance and bounce and pick up moves in a flash. No, now I'm more like a deaf Napoleon Dynamite trying to keep up with the dancers from Fame. Apparently ten years makes a big difference in your rhythm. But, we forged on. Mom and I probably spent the first five minutes of class just laughing our asses off. Partly at ourselves, partly at the teacher, and partly at the whole idea of what we were doing.

However, our laughter quickly turned into gasps for air as the teacher was thoroughly kicking our asses. She say to go one way, we couldn't figure out what way that was, so we'd bump into each other or turn the wrong way. We were like Siamese twins trying to get away from each other. Once we'd finally figure out what move we were supposed to be doing the teacher would move on to something else and we'd have to figure that one out. Meanwhile, the old fogies are dancing and bouncing and having a great time. What the hell?! At one point I looked around and I swear the class looked like a cross between a Sweatin' to the Oldies tape and Michael Jackson's Thriller video. It was quite a scene.

But, as embarrassed as I am that I am currently enrolled in Jazzercise, I have to say I feel great right now. I feel like I've taken a step in the right direction. I've gotten my ass (and my mom's ass) off the couch and moving. If the classes stay at the pace it was tonight, it won't be long until we're svelte and bouncing along with the old people. I have to draw the line at the Spandex though. NEVER! I know, never say never. I'm pretty sure that at one time I said no to Jazzercise and yet here I am, praising it. I'm giving it three snaps in "Z" formation..... and a big jazz hands finish but I give you my solemn vow of no spandex!