Friday, January 13, 2012

I Don't Do Zumba

Several months ago my friend Lisa asked me if I wanted to join the gym with her. I knew I was at a crossroads. I knew that a good friend would accept the invitation. I also knew that I've belonged to a gym before and hated it.  What would I choose? I value friendship as much as I value not working out with people. How could these two things be at odds? It seemed like one of those fake but excruciating scenarios you worry about in seminary where you are forced to either lie or drink coffee.

Well, I chose not to join the gym. In other words, I didn't choose Lisa. In other words, I chose not to do something that makes me uncomfortable instead of choosing to be there for Lisa. I chose to do the opposite of what a good friend would do. I denied Shirley her Laverne. I'm sure Lisa and I would be closer if I had gone on her Zumba journey with her...but I didn't want to and we're close enough already.

So when Lisa had the opportunity to try on some active wear for Old Navy's big promotion tomorrow (in-store demonstrations, huge discounts) I went along gamely. After denying her request for a work-out buddy, it was the least (pretty much the very least) I could do. It was fun!

I tried on the tight stretchy pants and they are good and do hold your fat in/support your muscles. I found myself ruing the day I blew my Kohls Cash on cheap yoga pants right after Christmas because the Old Navy ones looked way better and through the clever use of seaming or maybe it's a spell it made me look like I had a good body on the bottom. I mean, not like a 10 but better than a 5 and my goal has always been to land somewhere on the positive side of neutral. I didn't buy any of the pants but I can attest to their max control and wicking ability. They are kind of like Spanx, actually. If you hurry in to the American Fork Old Navy you might even get a pair with some of my dry skin flakes still in them at no added cost, which you can sell on Ebay for, like, a lot. I know that's gross. I don't know why I said it. It makes buying the pants I tried on less appealing and that's not what I meant to have happen at all.

I did get this sweet little number which I totally love:

You can plug your phone into the pocket and listen to it on your drawstrings! You catch my drift? The drawstrings are headphones. It's like H. G. Wells designed it. So when you imagine me running on the treadmill (which I hate), doing my iPhone Yoga App (which I love, but it seems to be a little heavy on the rest), or lofting my kettlebell high into the air after swooping it down into a firming squat (which I also hate), or walking the dog (which I don't mind), picture me wearing this with my [regrettably, lower-quality] yoga pants [from Kohls]  on. Actually, don't picture it. That's why I didn't join the gym in the first place.

See you at Old Navy on Saturday for the sale and Zumba demos! (Maybe I'll treat myself to some new bottoms. Even if it means that I totally wasted my Kohls cash--I could buy them with the Old Navy Super Cash I got today and everything will come out even.)


  1. You are a good friend and it is a blessing that you didn't go to Zumba with me because seeing me do that. . . well, it would have changed the way you see me forever, and I'm not sure I'm ready for that. You don't go to Zumba with me and I don't imagine you doing yoga in your Kohls pants. THAT'S the secret of our friendship.

  2. I bought a living social deal for zumba classes a few months ago and then I pulled my calf muscle while running one day - now my deal is expired and my muscle still isn't better. What's the moral of this story? I probably would have said "yes" to Lisa, incurred an injury and then gone to your house for pancakes proving that ALL of us could be friends.

    Also, that exercise is bad for you.

  3. Anonymous11:16 AM

    I read somebody's blog post the other day about how the secret to making friends is just to show up, to be there for them. That helped me understand why I don't really want friends. My idea of a kindred spirit is someone who wants me to be their friend from the comfort of my own home. (Exception: I also like friends who find a week-long babysitter for my 5 kids when they invite me on a girls' retreat to a Caribbean island.)

    This was a very effective post at making me want the yoga pants even though I don't normally like anything that could be compared to Spanx. I'll bet they don't make them in my size, though. I'm baffled that it's so hard to find sporting gear and workout clothing for larger women, but maybe retailers believe in the law of conservation of momentum and that bodies at rest will remain at rest.

  4. When trying on different outfits and looking for something to wear, I always ask my husband's opinion. (Like I ever expect to get a REAL answer.) But I seriously ask him on a scale of 1-10, what are my chances of getting lucky in that particular outfit. His answer is always 7, which in reality means he's the one with high hopes of getting some.


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