When I was small, about Emily's age, my mom began teaching jazzercise as part of an employee health program at the Forest Service District Office where my dad worked. Some of you may not know this bit of my mother's employment history, but any of you who have seen her on the dance floor will not be surprised in the least! Granted she has her own style, but also an undeniable sense of rhythm. She is a born teacher and has always enjoyed physical exercise. Creating choreographies to Madona, Paula Abdul and Diana Ross came natrually, I guess (or at least it seemed that way to six-year-old me).
Emily and I would often tag along to classes in the afternoons. I'm not sure if we wanted to or if there was no one to leave us with...either way, we did enjoy ourselves. We would curl up under stacked conference chairs against one wall with our crayons and paper, drawing and coloring as my mom lead the steps and shouted out instructions to her class over the loud, steady music.
At the end of the hour came my favorite part: relaxation cool down. Mom would put on some relaxing music, everyone would lie down on the floor (Emily and I included), and she would walk us through some deep breathing and relaxation visualization. To this day, I use this technique to help myself sleep when I'm tossing and turning, and talking Emily through some visualization at bedtime has now become a nighttime habbit.
I hadn't thought about my mom and her jazzy moves in quite a long time, and probably wouldn't have if I hadn't signed up for zumba classes in September. Zumba is basically the 21st century name for Jazzercise! The music is a lot more Reggeton and latin beat, but the idea is exactly the same: mixing dance and fittness.
I am not a dancer, though I consider I have a pretty good sense of rhythm. When things get too merengue-esque I just have to laugh because I'm the only one tripping over my feet instead of working up a sweat. Still, though, it's great to get out and do something for ME for an hour. It's great to work up a sweat and have sore muscles the next day. It's great to laugh and feel a part of something.
The woman who gives the classes is amazing. I don't know how she can do it virtually non-stop for two consecutive classes and four days a week...but I guess it's her job. She's up in front whistling and gesturing, occasionally shouting out encouragement or just whooping for fun. It was watching her in class the other day, as we were grapevining and clapping to the beat, jumping and squatting and sweating, that I was reminded of my own ebullient mother leading her own classes at about my age.
I burst out with a big smile and nearly lost the beat thinking back to those days in the conference room at the Klamath National Forest District Office. :)
I love you, Mom.
Oh, Viola Darlin'!! What a sweet post! Those were great times ... I couldn't believe they were paying me to have so much fun!! But you left out an especially delightful part of the story ... oftentimes you and Emily would spend your time drawing pictures of the class. You were so accurate, right down to the exercise positions of the participants, and the bright leotards they were each wearing that day. Your art work was always a highlight for the participants, and after each class some LUCKY person got to take home an original work of art depicting them hard at work exercising. Not long ago I came across one particularly adorable picture of the class that I had saved ... how ironic that you've been remembering those days, too. Love you, Precious One.
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