What's up with the lurking? I know you guys are reading so what's with the lack of comments? My feelings are getting a little hurt here and YOU DON'T WANT THAT. Perhaps if I tell a humiliating personal story it will loosen your clap traps a little? God, I hope so because the silent treatment is starting to bug. Was it something I said? (Hahhaha, blog humor. Oh, I kill! Seriously, I kill.)

Okay, so you all know I'm a workout girl. I go to the gym obsessively and take lots of different classes - kickboxing, weight lifting, spinning, Pilates, all of it. Up in the gym working on my fitness like Fergie, if you will. I am one of those obnoxious front-row standers, not because I want everyone to have a clear view of my junk but more because I like having un-impeded access to the mirror and the instructor. Also, I know I won't completely humiliate myself or have need to slink out in the middle of class.

Don't misunderstand, I've done my share of slinking. Every year or so I think maybe I'll try step aerobics again and every time I do I remember why I don't do it. I'm fine on the right side but when they switch over or want me to reverse myself, it's bad news. Bad news with falling-on-my-ass potential. Anyway, I've stuck to classes I'm comfortable with and that's all fine and good but I'm always looking for something new. New and scary, apparently!

My gym recently announced the debut of B0DYJAM�, a delightful mix of dance moves all choreographed for cardio fun. Uh, no. NO no no. That was my first reaction - NO. I don't mind dancing, but my version is the white-girl step hop that we've all done in dance clubs to Black Box's Everybody Everybody. I could white-girl dance with the best of them in my Doc Martens and black leather jacket. I was awesome. What I wasn't was choreographed. I haven't done any actual proper dance moves since I took ballet at the prime age of five. You can see my hesitation then, to take a class thus described:

B0DYJAM� is the cardio workout where you are free to enjoy the sensation of dance. An addictive fusion of the latest dance styles and hottest new sounds puts the emphasis as much on having fun as breaking a sweat. Funky instructors teach you to move with attitude through this 55-minute class. So grab a friend, get front and center and get high on the feeling of dance.

Someone hold me. I held out for a month, adamant that it was not for me. NOT. FOR. ME. I spilt my fear to a gym friend who looked at me like I was crazy and said she thought it would be fun and then added as an afterthought, "but I used to take dance in college." Well of course you did. You know what I did in college? I smoked in Shafer Court and stalked boys.

Anyway, right after Christmas I went to the gym and my usual class was not available - it had been replaced with B0DYJAM�. I hesitated. I stalled. I saw people way less coordinated than me walk right in, so I decided to be brave and try it. I marched in and almost marched right back out when I saw someone holding a video camera. Yike. I talked to the instructor, who I know, and she told me that she was being taped for her assessment, not the class. I stayed and waited for the sensation of dance to start.

It started with an easy three walking steps to the right, a hop and three walking steps to the left. Somehow my brain didn't accept this and my feet were all "GRAPEVINE. CROSS OVER STEPS." I finally corrected myself and got the walking thing down. (Shit, I know. It's walking. Could I be more embarrassed?) Then suddenly without warning there was arm waving and hip thrusting and up-and-back and Turn! And step! And jazz hands! Wah!

I fled. I seriously ran my ass out of there and dude, it's on CAMERA for this poor instructor's assessment. She is going to send that tape into headquarters and they will watch as she loses a participant in the first five minutes. Hi, sorry about that. I felt so awful I actually went into the locker room to give myself time to suck back the tears of frustration that are the usual next step in my melt-down routine.

After the class I went back in and apologized to her. Then I watched as all the other newbies who took the (entire) class flocked around and talked about how fun it was even though they had trouble following the routine. Why can't I be that way? Why can't I just allow myself to flail stupidly with the rest of them? I don't know, but I'm not going back in there to find out. At least, not for another six months or so.

Have a good weekend, monkeys!

8 chatty monkeys