I hate to admit it, but it's been a loooooong time since I've been to a good dance class and I was jonesing for one. For some reason, dance is in my blood (awww, look how cute I was?!)
I took dance classes from about the age of 3 to 6, hence this awesome picture of me and my little sister. From ages 14 to 19, I basically just danced in my room. The door would lock, I would blast the stereo, and just pretend I was some pop star for hours on end. It probably drove everyone else in my house insane.
My senior year of high school, I started to really get into Bollywood. The movies were colorful, beautiful, and musical and the food is almost exclusively vegetarian. It's like it was made just for me. Anyway, after dwelling on Indian culture for a couple of years, I decided to take an Indian dance class. However, I was dumb and thought that Indian dancing and bellydancing were the same thing.
After my first bellydance class, I was hooked. Every Friday night I would tie on my coin skirt and shake my hips. And I was actually pretty good at it. About a year after I started taking the class, the teacher approached me with an opportunity. She was pregnant and apparently there are moves you aren't supposed to do when pregnant, so would I be interested in being her demonstration? I would stand at the front of the class, help her teach, and show the moves her doctor wouldn't let her do. It was so much fun until she had her baby and the class just dissolved.
A couple of years later, I was having the dance itch again. My friend jokingly forwarded me an email for a pole dance class. She had tried it at a bachelorette party and thought I might find it entertaining. After an introductory class, I signed up for a six week course. It has to be the best arm workout I've ever had. But besides that, the bruises were horrendous and the pace of the class was just too fast for me. Even with supplemental sessions, it was just too hard for me.
Since then, I've been trying to fill the void. After a couple of Google searches I found a contemporary dance studio on my side of town. And wouldn't you know it, it was run by a girl I went to high school with.
I finally got around to trying it out Monday night. I'd heard a lot about Zumba (and by heard, I mean watched infomercials) so I wanted to give it a try. I don't think I've ever felt as good or looked as worse as I did at the end of that workout. It was brutal, but so much fun. After a couple more weeks of it, I can only assume that I will be in as good of shape as the instructor.
If you live in Tucson, check out Steps Studio.
So, onto the ugly stuff, my progress:
As you can see, this week didn't go so great. I went from 145.6 to 146.4, a gain of 0.8 pounds. I should probably be harder on myself, but I'm not going to be. I'm still down 1.2 pounds since the beginning. And there was going to be no way in hell that I had lost weight this week. Over the weekend, it was Dan's birthday and I may not be great when it comes to buying presents, but I am great when it comes to feeding him. Mmm, pizza, buffalo wings, spinach dip, cheetos, gorilla bread, IBC root beer, Texas Roadhouse, Taco Bell. Yeah, it adds up. Actually, I'm amazed I only gained the weight I did.
Just have to keep telling myself that it was slow to put on, so it will be slow to come off. And the holidays sure as hell won't help.
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