Today was Latin Hip Hop day at the YMCA. At least for me it was. I didn't want to go. I've been feeling like crap all week, I'm hormonal, and achy. Earlier this week I made a vow that when I get married I am going to put frown faces on the calendar for one week a month. As if to warn my husband, "This probably isn't going to work out well for you." Not that I'm a complete jerk...I'm just tired, and I cry for absolutely no reason.
So anyways, I felt like crap. But I made myself go. I ate half of a donut at work today...my arch enemy. But I am not ashamed. After finishing it, I said, "That was totally worth it." I have become a firm believer that if you blow it, you embrace your decision, and at least let yourself experience the pleasure of...in my case the donut. Otherwise, you're actions are totally in vane if you don't at least enjoy it. So eating half of a donut led me to go to the gym.
I first started Latin Hip Hop last June. I remember how tired and out of breath I was after the first class. It is advertised as a high energy class. And for someone who is overweight, these are code words for...you're going to die. But I went, and it was fun, even though I was sore for days after. The first few times I did the workout, I couldn't do things that everyone else could do, I found myself quitting some of the dances early and making the excuse to go drink some water. I hung out in the back row, in the corner...to go unnoticed. When I first started, I felt like a Butterball Turkey, trying to shake her hips, and get low low low low. I was making the motions, but oh wait...you can't tell, because I have no waistline. I felt so unattractive, hence the reason I hid in the corner.
The last two weeks I have noticed a major difference in my progress. Last week, I realized that I didn't actually have sweat on my face until the class was almost over. And today I was noticing a few other things. I can jump. I can jump high, and I can jump fast. I feel lighter on my feet. For the first time ever, I was watching myself dance in the mirrors in the fitness studio, and I actually look (almost) like the instructor. I almost appear seductive, wiggling my hips. I know...its hard to believe, April Kay...the girl who dropped out of middle school cheerleading because she was forced to do push ups, dropping it like it's hot.
When I was done with the workout today, I felt better. My mood was better and I wasn't in pain. I've been noticing lately, that exercise is a healer in many ways. Here's a gross example... it clears my sinuses :) People use illness, stress and depression as an excuse, but it actually makes you feel better. If anyone wants to join me in Latin Hip Hop class on Wednesday nights, with Butt Sweat Jimi, you are welcome! (we'll have to check out guest passes)I have graduated from the back row, to the second-to-back row. It's a big step for me :)
Sidenote: If you do come to Latin Hip Hop, stay away from interacting with Butt Sweat Jimi before class. Today he comes up to me and says, "Is this your first time?" I said, "Nope" He says, "Second time?" I shake my head "no". He says, "You've been here many times? You are always back here hiding." In my head, I am thinking, "I'm here all the time, back off Creepo!" You see, Butt Sweat Jimi looks like a homeless person. He comes into the Y, wearing a trench coat, hooded sweatshirt, flip flops with socks, carrying several bags...oh and I forgot to mention that he looks like a cross between Charles Manson, and a pirate. If you don't dodge eye contact, he is likely to try dancing with you before class. No thanks.
My name is April Williamson, and I've got the moves.