Pumbaa Does Zumba

Posted: June 19, 2013 in Community, Family, Humour


Falling under the category of ‘Pride goes before a fall’, this week’s subject will surely ignite some debate between the sexes. I, William Q. Gingras (esquire), once joined Zumba.

Hearing the collective ‘gasp’ of the masses, allow me to explain. It was three years ago…

I love to dance. Sorry, but I just have to say that. I am a closet dancer, although, I must confess, I have never possessed a closet large enough to really dance in. Rare is the day where I don’t do some dancing in the kitchen, the living room, even the bathroom.

Having said this, what, you ask yourselves, does this have to do with my joining Zumba? Well, for those who are unaware of this, Zumba is an aerobic exercise routine inspired by Latin dance. It is infectious, fun, difficult at times, and great for the body and mind. It allows us to join friends and acquaintances and enjoy an hour of torture, all to Latin music especially put together for your workout.

On my way to my first class, I was daydreaming, imagining a fantasy I had as a child, one which I never realized. When I was in grade five, the teacher had to leave the class for an hour, and appointed one of my classmates to lead the class in his absence. Boy, did I envy him!! He ably led us through a math session, then got us started on English. I had a goal after that….to be that ‘go to’ kid, the person that gets left in charge when the teacher needs to go somewhere else for however long.

Since I like to dance, and Zumba is exercise based on dance, the old dream came flickering to life. Yes, I could see myself being the guy to take over if our teacher had to check her hair, answer the phone, or sign up some new students.  I could ‘Zumba’ the night away, sometimes leading, other times following, always dancing.

There was just a teensy bit of a problem. I was a little out of shape. Well, to be honest, more than a little. The shape I was in was ‘round’. And, although Zumba looked easy, well, it turns out it really is not. To illustrate my dilemma, I kept a journal of my first Zumba class, to allow you to experience it with me.

7:38 p.m.: class starts at 8 p.m., and we were advised to get here early to warm up. Makes sense, I suppose. After watching everyone else stretch, I begin to do the same. Funny that I am the only guy here. Maybe most of the guys don’t show up early. Maybe they don’t think it’s ‘cool’. I’ll stretch enough to show them that they should have listened!

7:48 p.m.: I’m pretty loose! I have literally stretched every muscle I have. The ladies are looking at me out of the corners of their eyes, as if I am some sort of pervert. Don’t worry ladies….old Billy is married, and is not here to ogle you! Also, I took my glasses off, so really, your butts look like fuzzy moose to me. Perhaps I shouldn’t have worn my sweatpants with ‘Juicy’ on the back. Maybe that would explain all the looks? Also, there’s still no other guys here. Boy, they are going to be sorry they didn’t stretch!

7:59 p.m. Our teacher has called us in to class. There are still no other guys. Well, just more Billy to share, I say! Let’s get this party started.

8:01 p.m. the music is intoxicating!! I am so glad we warmed up, because I’m already starting to sweat, but feel so good! I love the beat. They put me in the back row, I guess so I’m not a major distraction to the other ladies. But, I seem to be keeping pace.

8:04 p.m. Speaking of pace, it would appear that the music has increased its pace….quite a bit, in fact. And we’re doing moves I didn’t think we would have to. We’re doing tow touches to the rhythm, even. And once in a while we get turned around so that I’m actually in the front!! Woohooo!!

8:05 p.m. Whoops. While being in ‘front’, and doing one of the aforementioned ‘toe touches’, the Tacos I had for supper have come into play. This has added more credence to the word ‘Juicy’ that is sewn on my pants. Sorry ladies!! Let’s all be thankful there’s a fan running in here!!

8:09 p.m. I’ve been telling the lady next to me that it’s the floor making cracking sounds, but really, it’s my knees. And ankles. And other body parts. We’re dancing even faster now. This is becoming a little more than I bargained for. But I can do it! I WILL DO IT!!

8:13 p.m. I CANT DO THIS! How the hell is the teacher doing this and smiling? And talking! Smiling and talking and dancing. It’s not natural! It’s ridiculous! It’s immoral! It’s unconstitutional! This is harder than playing hockey! I am so out of shape. I’m hoping it’s break time soon….

8:16 p.m. It would seem it is NOT break time. Apparently we do not even get one. It’s like taking a class with the Marquis de Sade. I’m starting to hate everyone in here. They can all kiss my ‘Juicy’ behind!! Good gravy!!

8:21 p.m. What do you mean ‘repeat’? I didn’t even get it right the first time!  At this point, you can just forget me being the leader of this class. The teacher better not ask me to step in, because I will likely step out. The ladies around me seem to be preoccupied with their own difficulties….perhaps this would be a good time to slide on out of here? I would, but I really can’t lift my legs enough to slide away.

8:33 p.m. I have my second breath now. Of course, it helps that I just stood there for 10 minutes and steadfastly refused to move, despite all the brow-beating and cajoling. I didn’t want to say that I was standing still so that I would continue to live up to my ‘Juicy’ nickname….and so I have bloated uncomfortably. I went outside for two minutes, which helped, much to the chagrin of the birds who were minding their own business until I let them discover the Juicy side of me.

8:58 p.m. Somehow, I have managed to last to the very end. Upon reflection, it really was not all that bad. As I prepare to leave, promising to return, I think to myself…I can really do this!

6:30 a.m. next day: I can’t move….ow…owowowow….

I have to thank the ladies who put up with me for those half-dozen classes  I actually made it to. And I have a much bigger appreciation for  the fitness classes people put themselves through to get into shape.


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