Wednesday night; 7:30. I anxiously shuffle my feet back and forth, shake my arms out a bit. Check my watch, look around once more... and here we go.
The music starts to pound and it's like a switch is thrown. Everything that's been swirling around in my head is suddenly silenced, and all I can hear is the beat. Boom, boom, boom. I smile and start to move.
I'm on fire. Salsa, merengue, reggaeton, and hip-hop. My hips swirl around in a perfect figure 8. I give in to the music, letting my body find its rhythm. I'm hella sexy. And tough, to boot.
Looking around the room, seeing us all moving together; sweat dripping, but smiles still on faces. Mine, too.
I accidentally catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and notice I'm not quite as graceful as I see myself in my head. A bit more awkward and angular, actually... elbows and knees thrust at all kinds of crazy white-girl angles. But it's all good; I'm totally having fun.
Power & peace, all at once. For one glorious hour, my worries, my fears, my frustrations are gone.
And I've never felt so good.
Welcome to zumba.
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