Zumba Class 7 and A Hangover

Sometimes a title is worth a 1000 words isn’t it?  You are already laughing, aren’t you?  I know you are.  Hell, I could just stop right here.  Because,  you immediately flashed back to a time when, in a an exercise  (pardon the pun) of extremely poor judgment, you got up one morning after a spectacular bender and went off to exercise.  Or at the proverbial convention, had an 9 am tee time, after getting in from drinking all night at 5 am.

My college roommate, Vince, was a tall, slender, athletic guy with piercing blue eyes and the longest blackest eyelashes you’ve ever seen.  Every woman who every saw, met or walked by him said, “you have beautiful eyes”, or “I love your eyelashes”, or “I’d kill for your eyelashes” or “OMG, your eyes”, or you get the idea.  I was jealous for about two weeks,  then I could see it could really be annoying to be that good-looking.  We saw each other a few months ago for the first time in 30 years.  He was here to see a client of a company he’s CEO for in California.  We meet at Big Billy’s burger joint.  We sat down, the waitress came up and said, “OMG, you have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen”.  I digress.  So, we’d stay out drinking till 3 am, and he’d get up at 8 am to play basketball.  When he got back, whatever time that was, I’d still be asleep.  He’d suggest I get up, which I pointed out was not a good idea.  I preferred not to see daylight on the weekends.  I liked to get up AFTER the sun went down.  We’d make breakfast for supper and then go back out drinking.  I found it easier to stay up all night drinking that way.  Exercise in the morning after drinking seems counterproductive.

I went to Zumba this morning with the hangover anyway.  It actually wasn’t so bad.  It was like coming to after surgery while your still “enjoying” the effects of the anesthesia.  And, while I would never say “I’m getting the hang of this Zumba thing,  I think the Pavlov effect is starting to work.

Now I’m limited in actually talking about musical selections because the two times I’ve actually talked about a particular song, (and they were my two favorites) Dale immediately took them out of her playlist.  I thought the first time was just her changing things up, but the second time I had some major “mother issues PTSD”.  I’m gonna sneak my phone in there and Shazam some of the songs I hate and blog about one of those and see if it gets canned.

The first thing I noticed today was my feet.  Last week, my spectacular Goddess of a daughter Rachel said she was having trouble finding me something for Father’s day.  (because I have everything I want and need and because I am, generally a PITA – Pain In the Ass).  At first I said the standard, “nice card”, but then, I thought about how bad my feet hurt last week, so  I said I needed Zumba shoes, but was too lazy to do the research so if she’d find what shoes I should get, I’d to buy them.  Which she did, and I did.

image

FYI – “The foot and ankle contain:

None of which apparently, get worked out when you are sitting in a recliner,  so despite the plethora of geometric shapes on the bottom of these trainers, most of which I haven’t seen since tenth grade geometry, my feet still hurt like hell today.  While I’m neither a podiatrist nor a orthopedist, I’m gonna go out on a limb here and guess it’s not because I have the wrong shoes for lateral movement, but it’s because Zumba is working at least 84 foot muscles that probably have not been exercised since I was 8 months old.  (Oh, my feet just piped in and said, “Oh yeah, and you’re a fat ass”)

Named another step today – you step/run in place while doing jumping jacks just as fast as you possibly can with your upper arms PINNED TO YOUR SIDES.  I call this “Sorority Girl at rock concert college football game needs to pee really really bad but line at girls bathroom is 100 yards long”.

“We all live in a Yellow Submarine”

 

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