Closing the Teach For America Blogging Gap
Jan 16 2013

Let’s Jazzercise!

I don’t want to talk about the awful mess of crud that made me sad today. So instead let me tell you about the spectacularly subpar aerobics class I went to Monday.

So this was at the gym in Gallup, which is totally decent. There’s some weights and some cardio equipment and way around the back there’s a smallish basketball court, which was the site of the amazingness that was this step aerobics class. Picture, if you will: approximately 15 people. Big contingent of the New Year’s Resolution folks, who came in a big group like the Ya-Ya Sisterhood or something in matching pink and purple sweatshirts. Then there’s the old Navajo man with long, white hair pulled back into a ponytail, bright red sweatbands on his head and wrists, and red shorts pulled way up towards his armpits. Senorita Sensual, who is wearing really stylish workout clothes that fit her 6-months-pregnant body snugly. And let’s not forget Mr. Neck Tattoos. Nuff said. Plus me and my gym buddy, two awkward somewhat uncoordinated blond ladies.

Our instructor was this awesome apple-shaped man in a tank top and short shorts, big old beer belly and wiry muscular legs. And we all proceeded to step up and down awkwardly for an hour. Senorita Sensual seems to be doing the Samba the whole time, to a song only she can hear. Mr. Neck Tattoo is SO HYPED UP and he is going to be WORKING OUT and so he will RUN when we march and he will JUMP when we hop. Of course, he will do all this three beats behind, so maybe he’s just trying to catch up. The Ya-Yas are not all using step boards so sometimes it just looks like they’re walking around, and two have brought iPods, which I can’t imagine why because who doesn’t want to listen to the techno remix of “Devil in a Blue Dress”? Old man is just confused, and definitely marching to the beat of his own drummer, who is playing a much slower song than ours. And me and my gym buddy are puffing away, trying to follow the instructor’s directions which sometimes involve such sense-making things as tiptoeing in circles around our step boards. I might have kicked my board off the risers. Twice. After an hour, we all clap and shake our heads and say congratulatory things to each other, like “Good workout!” and “Whew, time just flew!” Like we weren’t all being absurdly uncoordinated for the last 60 minutes.

But after all that, it was a lot of fun! I think I’m going to try to go every week. It was just so typical ridiculous Gallup. You can’t help but love it.

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    In which I muse about New Mexico, teaching, and life in general.

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