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Kate Hudson Dancing

How I envision myself in Planet Motion Dance Class - god I'm hot!

I don’t know what it is, but when Chris is working out of town I find myself in the most random situations…like last night’s accidental participation in The Planet Motion dance class. Please click the link before reading the rest of this post.  I’m seriously still chuckling at how this class was exactly what an SNL skit depicting a “hard core exerciser” visiting a Boulder dancercise class would be… complete with two Napoleon Dynamites killing the pre-class time with a little center-of-the-room Tae Kwon Do for all to enjoy.

Gael Garcia Bernal

A mental still shot of myself bustin' my Funky Bunch moves. PS, don't you just love Gael Garcia Bernal?

Now I’m a pretty straight forward exerciser. I do aerobics, I lift weights in a class, I use the abductor in hopes of trimming my inner thighs, and I typically spend 20 minutes “cooling down” on the treadmill to be able to watch the last segment of Oprah…so what I’m saying is that I’m not an exerdancecise class goer. I pretty much think Nia, Jazzersize and all of the other dance fitness crazes (I kind of like Zumba though) are hokey and represent pretend exercise for mommies who can’t emotionally let go of the baby weight. But here in Boulder, the birthplace of fashion yoga and uber-fitness, combining all the white moves you’ve ever learned (including cheerleading herkies) and busting them out to Lady Gaga’s “Born This Way” has become a respectable form of multi-gender fitness that jams every studio from mirror to mirror…and I still think it’s hokey.

So yesterday afternoon, after spending all day indoors, I bribed myself into the gym, swearing to take whichever fitness class was available, with a promise of Tom Kha Gai (Thai coconut soup= God’s most perfect creation) and a Movie On Demand… because resolutions must be kept! Normally I don’t bribe myself to exercise (with treats that is), but this was Friday night, which means that the itty bitty smidge of enthusiasm I would normally have for evening exercise was totally gone. I’m not gonna sugar coat it, Friday evenings at the gym are pretty pathetic. It’s the fitness equivalent to the produce section of the grocery store. The gym on Friday evenings is where all the single men go in hopes of picking up divorcees, and it’s where all the bitter women go because they’ve sworn off men forever… not a very functional combo. So mix all this anger and hope together with a little spandex and an hour of pop tunes and you’ve got Friday night on Planet Motion.

When I realized my only choice was dancing with the lonely hearts club, my first thought was to run home. But with Tom Kha Gai on the line I told myself “what the hell, if nothing else I can use it as a blog entry” and kicked off my shoes, warmed up my drum circle arms and channeled my inner Goldie Hawn from Housesitter…you have to watch this link if you don’t know what I’m talking about!

Now as snarky as I’m sounding I do have to say that I’m the first to dive right in when I’m in someone else’s “house”. I hate it when people opt to show attitude instead of finding an appreciation for the fact that others are enjoying themselves. When I’m in a new situation I always do my best to participate, 100%…even if I’m not remotely dressed like the others. Did I forget to mention that everyone was wearing glitter makeup provided by the instructor?

To make sure the class would be comfortable the lights were left low. But because of my deal about my jumping right into new situations, I said “screw it” and made it a point to stand in the brightest spot in the room and roller-coaster my little heart out for all to see. I step-balled-changed and shimmied my shoulders while throwing white guy thumbs left and right; at one point (during the African Dance portion of the class) my shirt actually rolled up over my belly… there goes the Kate Hudson image. I did what I was told and let my FIRE TAKE CONTROL and by the third song I had established 10′ of territory on all sides and I was using every inch! A couple of times I heard the instructor say “Hey Gang, Spice is really feeling it!!!” and the room would actually cheer…my own little Dancer’s Anonymous.  During one of the “use the entire room” dances one of the men did come close and do that creepy head pop thing to let me know he approved of what he was seeing but because I ooozzz being happily married (along with wearing an amazing wedding set) he did a Roger Rabbit back into the shadows and left me to work on my slam hula.  The last song was spent with our eyes shut, twirling around and around (bumping into each other) while listening to Christina Aguilera’s “You Are Beautiful”… mixed with tiny sniffles from the girl next to me.

As soon as Christina wrapped up with “you can’t bring me down…. todaaaaaaaaaaaay AAAyyyyyyyyy AAAAAYYYYYYY aaaaaayyyyyy”, the lights came on and it was all over. We took three long breaths combined with three deep plies, put our hands on our hearts as a show of bringing happiness in and then clapped to each of our neighbors as a show of sending love back out. Then we left.

I’m seriously wrapping this up with tears in my eyes. In hindsight it’s even more hysterical then it felt in the moment. I will admit that I had a great time but I doubt I’ll go again simply because it’s still not my kind of exercise and to be honest, I felt like I was putting a married wrinkle in the mood for the regulars in the class… but ask me again when you have a bowl of Tom Kha Gai in your hands and see what I say.  When I told Chris about my night he just laughed that “how do you get into these things” laugh. He learned early on in our relationship that crazy things are just a part of the Spice package.  I know I haven’t done the humor of the situation any justice in this blog post but hopefully you’ve heard enough about Boulder and watched enough Portlandia to form an image that comes close…if not check out the Planet Motion video link in the first paragraph and then picture me trying to tap into my inner dancer… that will certainly make you laugh.