I Survived Zumba: OFL Week 5

Here's my Operation Fear Liberation (OFL) snapshot for the first week of February. Once again, I've forced myself to do something new. 

 

Week 5: Go to a Zumba class 

Why it’s on my list: So Zumba is a Latin dance-inspired fitness program with a choreography that incorporates hip-hop, soca, samba, salsa, merengue, mambo, martial arts, and some Bollywood and belly dance moves. I’ve been hearing from everyone and their dog about how fun Zumba is for at least a year, maybe two now. When I’ve peeked through the window of my gym’s group fitness room and seen a Zumba class in progress, the participants really do look like they are having fun. And I hear it really is a great workout for your hips and core. I’ve been meaning to try it. 

Hang Ups: I’m terrified of looking stupid, of course; why else would a person hem and haw about going to a dance class when she wants to dance? This fear is exacerbated by the fact that I am severely dance challenged.  Maybe not to the degree of the Seinfeld character, Elaine Benes, but let’s consider the evidence through the years.

• Exhibit A: Belly-dancing. 1998, Portland, OR. My roommates and I signed up for belly dancing classes at a community center. I quickly learned that I could only do hip circles, twists, and bumps on my left side—my right hip seemed frozen. I couldn’t seem to shimmy my chest back and forth without also going up, down, and all around. When we got to “camel” undulations, I was clueless as to how to isolate the ribcage moves—I just couldn’t do it.  Everyone else in the class seemed to be getting it so quickly. I recall thinking, “I AM the remedial student in the class.”  Unsurprisingly, I dropped out after two or three classes.

• Exhibit B: Tango. Sometime between 2004 and 2006, NW Folklife Festival, Seattle, WA. If you’ve ever been to Folklife, you’ve probably noticed at least that there are a lot of dance events on the schedule, if you haven’t stumbled past one in progress. These dance events include dance lessons. I thought taking one such lesson would be such a romantic thing to do with my then boyfriend. Errr, WRONG. I struggled to find the beat, I struggled to remember the steps, I struggled to coordinate the steps and the beat. And above all else, I sucked at following. Al Pacino's line in Scent of a Woman, about how there's "no mistakes in the tango, darling. Not like life.  Simple.  That's what makes the tango so great"--total bull.

• Exhibit C: Foxtrot. 2010, HaLo (Century Ballroom’s sister hall). My friend ES and I signed up for a one-night beginner foxtrot lesson. Because there were more “follows” than “leads” and because we all didn’t come in pairs, we were instructed to rotate, changing partners every minute or so. At first, I felt like I was getting it: the steps, the beat. I still sort of sucked at following, but those leads who were confident and sure-footed were not so hard to follow, and I felt comfortable enough with the steps to manage with those leads who lacked authority. Then the dance steps got more complicated. All my newly learned following skills disappeared—it was if my feet were in a state of anarchy against the dance steps and the leads.  I stumbled from partner to partner, an uncoordinated, unmanageable mess.

It looks so simple.  It's not.

What these prior experiences have told me is that I am a SLOW learner when it comes to dance.  My brain has a really hard time coordinating the music’s beat, steps, hips, and hands.  Thus, the odds of me really making an ass of myself at a Zumba class seem really high. I wish I had a gym buddy to come with me.  I am petrified.

Also, I think the name “Zumba” sounds stupid.  I am somewhat embarrassed to do something with such a dumb-sounding title. 

Conquered: February 4, 2012 

Where: My gym.

How: I showed up for the 6:35 PM Zumba class. I stayed through the whole thing. 

The Experience: The good news is I was not the only person there who seemed to be kind of clueless.  While there were a few seasoned Zumba people in attendance, it quickly became evident to me that there were several fellow newbies in the room, and quite a few others who are still fairly new to it.  

You can tell these are not dancers, but real people by the slightly befuddled facial expressions.

Once I realized that I was not the only remedial Zumba participant, I relaxed a bit.  If I couldn’t quite figure out a step, I just tried to do something similar to it until we moved on to another step--the old “fake it ‘til you make it” strategy.   

I imagine most of us looked a little silly dancing in our gym shoes and workout gear compared to the instructor who was dressed more like the late Lisa “Left Eye” Lopes of TLC in baggy cargo pants and matching fitted top.  So I avoided looking at my reflection in the room’s many mirrors. If I don’t know just how dumb I look, then I can’t get too self-conscious.

In Zumba, we all might have looked crazy, but only our instructor looked Left Eye-sexy.

As class continued, I remembered another dance experience from my past, a positive experience.  When I went back to college for a second BA around 2000-2001, I took a class called Nia for three semesters.  Nia stands for Neuromuscular Integrative Action that blends nine movement forms, including Modern Dance, Tae Kwon Do, Alexander Technique, and Yoga.  Despite all that woo-woo lingo, Nia is a dance class at its core.  When I signed up for Nia, I felt totally awkward and stupid in the first few classes I attended.  But then I got over my discomfort and started to get the feel for it.  I really got hooked on it for a while.  

In Zumba, I began to see similarities to Nia. I recognized certain steps and moves.  I felt a vaguely familiar shift begin in my brain, moving from that place of chaotic confusion (so acutely felt in my Foxtrot lesson) to a calm place where--although my body was still in constant motion--my mind could detach enough to see the connection between the song’s time signature and the dance steps in a particular sequence.

Yes, I still struggled to follow the steps and coordinate the feet, the arms, and the hips. Yes, I did feel a little silly at times.  But the utter dread I felt before the start of the first few songs soon fell away and I began to feel curious about what we’d do in the next song, even excited.  I was enjoying it. 

The Verdict: Zumba was totally fun!  I don’t know that it’s my new obsession, but I can totally imagine going a few times a month.  Even though my hips are KILLING me today.