How Kelley Got Her Groove Back.....

"MOVE! FEEL the MUSIC!.....", she shouted over the deafening volume of the song. I had to smile....sweat dripping down my face, hips gyrating, feet flying - arms jerking to the tribal beat....because my awe inspiring, drill sergeant Zumba instructor had just hit the proverbial nail on the head. If only she could have shouted those words to me LAST year.
   It has been a year....372 days to be exact, since I wrote my first Blog - it was about being stuck in Mid Life. As I re-read it now, I realize I was not just stuck - I was plummeting towards the downward spiral of no return. I was miserable, and old....and in pain - physically and mentally.....and fat.....very fat. I could see nothing ahead of me...I was in trouble.
   What a difference 372 days can make in a persons life. They have been 372 days of loss and sorrow, pain and trouble, more loss, new life AND renewed life and laughter....and music.....and movement. In March, when I decided to loose a few pounds so I could buy a decent dress, I could have never imagined that I would be sitting here in September - 69 pounds lighter, Moving and Feeling the Music!
   I have always loved to dance - once upon a time I got paid good money to dance - 5 to 6 shows a week (Get your minds out of the gutter, there were no poles involved - theatrical dance, not that other kind....). 372 days ago, there was not much dancing going on.... it was mostly shuffling and limping.....Two months ago, I stepped into a classroom - complete with an entire wall of mirrors. I stood in the back row, telling myself I was just there to encourage Baby and Babiest. - they wanted to try Zumba. I thought that I would make it through the first song or two, slip quietly out and walk on the treadmill while I waited for them to finish their class....after the first song, I knew I was hooked.Our instructor is a dynamo - an amazing dancer, and an effective motivator. And the music....it gets into your blood....and the dancing itself....the moving....it reminded me that I was alive.
  It wasn't a pretty sight at first - me trying to remember how to dance. My form was terrible, and my endurance.....forget about it! I looked like a fish out of water - gasping for breath, but as the days went by, my form AND endurance returned....and my bodys' sense memory begged for more. Muscles and vertebrae loosened - one by one, awakening from their long sleep. I am now enthralled by my leg muscles - they WORK! They can pull me up a hill, or flights of stairs. They allow me to leap up from the sofa, and squat and bend down. Amazing things, really.
  To my beautiful Zumba instructor - I would say, "I DO feel the music.....all the time!" More than once, I have caught myself dancing down an aisle in the Teeter, or the Wal Mart.....and sometimes, there's not even any music playing! I worry for the day that someone at Church catches me doing the Samba (Or worse still, The Wobble) down the long hall in the Children's Department. I was even chair dancing in Choir on Wednesday night! I dance in the kitchen, I dance in the driveway while Crack House Puppy plays outside (Sorry, neighbors....)...I move, and I feel the music - of life. I am re-awakened....I no longer feel old (I mean, HECK, my Zumba instructor is a year OLDER than me, and she is Fabulous!)...and while I suppose I am still a Mid Life Wife, I  feel like I should change the name of my blog to "How Kelley got her Groove Back....."........Move!.....Feel the Music!......Zumba!

To each his own....the Victory.

I failed the class....not once, not twice, but three times. It was the bane of my existence, and my Mother was mortified. Three times in as many years, I failed the beginner swim class at  City Lake Park. Each time, I was the only child that did not pass - the only one that did not get to swim in the deep end. The only child doomed to repeat beginners - not invited to continue my aquatic education, with advanced strokes and....diving. I put my little Irish foot down after the third failure and flat out refused to ever take another lesson. I must have been about 11 years old, and truly, it may be the only time my Mother ever allowed me to tell her "NO!" Shortly thereafter, we joined the Neighborhood Swim Club, where my best friend patiently spent summer after summer, teaching me how to dog paddle, then to crawl....then to give my best approximation of freestyle (Which, let me tell you, does NOT involve me putting my face in the water for even the tiniest of seconds), and finally, at about the same time I learned to drive a car, I learned to do 10 - 15 feet of the backstroke. (That dear girl also tried her best to get me to jump off of the diving board - not a high dive, mind you, but just a little one. Weary of her cajoling, in a weak moment, I allowed her to help me up the ladder. I walked to the edge, pinched my nose shut, closed my eyes, and in I went - swallowing half of the pool water as I descended - only surfacing thanks to the heroic dive and rescue efforts of my bestie!).
   So now you know - I am no fish....I don't like the deep end, I hate to have my face under water, and if ever confronted with a tragic boating accident, I would be voted most likely to drown in the absence of a floatation device. My idea of swimming involves a few moments of floating on my back and kicking my feet a bit.....and I have always been OK with that.
   Today, at the age of 64, Diana Nyad finished her swim from Cuba to Key West....without stopping to rest. She first attempted this in 1978, and has tried over and over again in the ensuing years - never giving up on her insane dream....Such an accomplishment! Such a feat of endurance and athletic prowess.How proud and fulfilled she must be tonight. I mention this, only because this was an aquatically momentous day for more than one swimmer.
   On Mondays, I take water aerobics (We joined a gym - I LOVE it - I Zumba 3 days a week, take this Monday water class, and do a little weight work too. The girls come along, and we all have a really great time!)
Today being Labor Day however, all Night classes were cancelled. "That's OK", I said to myself -"I'll just take the morning class, since I have no Staff Meeting today". I suited up, and was right ready at the appointed hour...there was no one....no classmates, no teacher - just a lone middle aged man doing laps. It's a two lane pool (We take down the lane rope for our class), so I figured I would do my own class....I've been going long enough now that I've got the moves down. I made some chit chat with the other swimmer - you know...."Don't mind me - I'm just going to hang in this corner and jog and jump around". I may or may not have scared him off with my maneuverings, because he was gone in a flash. "Great", I thought - "A private pool!" I worked hard for about 30 minutes, and started to get bored....water aerobics for one is not nearly so much fun as a pool full of people. I grabbed a noodle, thinking I would just float for a bit. I don't know what prompted me to put the noodle under my stomach, but once it was there, I realized that it cured my most basic problem with swimming. My center of gravity must be wonky, because I can never seem to stay prone in the water. Assisted by the noodle hugging my waist, I took a few strokes. "Huh", I thought. "So THIS is what it feels like to swim". A few more strokes followed, and before you knew it, I had swum an entire lap - my first ever. (It is a competition length pool - not the little short squatty kind). Emboldened by my success, I did another, and another - switching to backstroke by readjusting the noodle to the small of my back. All told, I swam 10 laps. What a feeling of accomplishment I had! As I exited the pool, my arms and legs trembled uncontrollably, and for a moment I doubted my ability to walk into the dressing room, where Baby girl was waiting....I must have looked a sight - rubber band limbs and all - grinning from ear to ear. Diana Nyad's got nothing on me! I am sure that she is exhausted....so am I. I am sure that she is incredibly sore.....so am I. I am sure that she has limited mobility at the moment....so do I!(It was a real trick reaching my arms high enough to get my coffee mug off of the shelf after supper, let me tell you!) She may question her decision to make such a grueling, punishing swim....I know I feel that perhaps 10 laps on my first go round was about 5 laps too many! And I am just guessing here, but I bet she is already plotting her next swim.....as am I....to each his own....the Victory!