ZUMBA!!!!!!

Me Like Zumba!

Something about the word Zumba makes me feel like channeling Cookie Monster.

Zumba, a Latin dance-inspired cardio workout, was the offering this morning, led by Ann Saldi, the Master Instructor of New England.

First, I DON’T dance.

Anymore.

As a kid, I used to square dance, but that’s all Alabam-lefts, daisy chains and yee-haws -- basically line dancing couples grouped in fours. I can still do a mean do-si-do, but it’s far from the Cha-Cha, droppin’ it low and pattin’ my weave.

I’m an American mutt – mostly Irish and French Canadian, which usually means just add alcohol (music optional) for the dancing to begin. The booze probably doesn’t mean I dance any better, it just makes me feel like I’m on Fame, and I am going to live forever.

But I digress. . . .

Latin dancing involves a lot of hip action, and I’ve got a lotta hip to activate. It all looks so fluid – feet stepping, hips swaying, but I felt like I was dancing in Super Glue. My mind is willing, but my body is so damn rigid when it comes to movement.

Once I got passed my self-consciousness and realized that we were all “Zumba Virgins,” I could let go and have some sweaty, clumsy fun. I could shake it. And it kept on shaking, even when I stopped.

Toward the end of class, I was getting’ my groove on, finding my own suburban-white-girl-American-mutt rhythm. Doin’ some salsa, some mambo, even a teensy bit of hip hop.

Note to Beyonce: Look out biotch. I’m right behind you. . . .