I am exhausted, and so, so, so sore. The class is amazingly, painfully intense. The room is dark, illuminated only by disco lights and either a strobe light or my personal seizure, and the music is loud, Latin, and fast. You have to keep with the rhythm, and there's a muscle-contracting step for every beat, so you're never just standing around reading the paper. The only breaks you get are between songs, and if you don't take the 4 seconds to grab water, you'll be very, very sorry. The moves are different for every song and make you feel like Shakira, or at least Pit Bull, and maybe you do look like those people, but, having caught my reflection in the mirror, that is definitely not the case for me. Grateful for the lack of lighting, I barely kept up with the shaking, twisting, reaching, slamming, jumping, and...hooting. Yes, people hoot. Or woop, I guess. It's pretty funny once you get into it, and gives you that little bit of encouragement when you're ready to sashay the hell outta there. I saw a few people walking to the back of the room midway through the workout. During the remainder of the class, while we shook our chests at the mirror and straddled imaginary stallions, they squatted and shuffled their feet in gentle defeat. My pride would not let me join them, though my heart screamed to stop.
I would highly recommend this Zumba class for anyone who's looking for a workout that, as Zumba always promises, feels more like a party. I'm really looking forward to the rest of this month's line-up!