Wait – What is happening? Is that my ass??

WHAT IS GOING ON???
This was my thought process the other day as I tried on my once favourite pair of jeans and discovered my beloved low-rise jeans suddenly became real low-rise jeans – so low they covered just up to my thighs.

Well friends, people forgot to mention the magical process that happens to your body when you get into your 20’s; but I’m here to warn you to enjoy those skinny jeans while you can! Soon your ass will be so large you will be jumping up in the air for hours trying to squeeze yourself into them.
If you are lucky to finally achieve the unthinkable, you might try to, oh I don’t know- BEND OVER! And that is when you will find out that you will need to learn how to use your feet to pick up objects to meet you halfway that your body is restricted to reach.

Let me paint you a picture of how this travesty came about.

One day not too long ago, when life was a simpler time, I was going out and was trying to decide on what to wear. With a flashlight in hand I entered the depths of my closet without a clue of when I would return. Felt like hours went by when I finally emerged out of the closet with an outfit in hand.
I was feeling great and so excited with my outfit I put together; a top that I had completely forgot about and jeans that I had worn a few times and loved the colour of. The day started just like any other, but nothing in life had ever prepared me for what was about to happen.

I was getting ready, listing to some throwbacks on my iPod and dancing along while I got dressed. I’m half dressed and with my pants in hand, I’m struggling to put them on. As I’m singing along to the song, I’m starting to get a bit annoyed.

You see, Nicki Minaj Super Bass just happened to come on and I’m getting into it; I’m hitting all the words, going into the rap portion to the singing of the chorus flawlessly, never missing a beat. However, the jeans are just not budging. I’m getting distracted now and starting to miss some words. At this point, the fans would be booing; this performance has definitely not been my finest. Fed up, I stop singing and look to see what exactly is the issue with the jeans. To my surprise, everything looks fine, both legs are in and I’m shimming and still there is no progress.
My wonder has now turned into concern – Have I shrunk my jeans??? No, it can’t be possible. I look up in the mirror and am mortified at what I see. My jeans are maybe above my mid-thigh and there is no way these babies are getting any higher. And now I begin to look at myself – and I mean really look.

Usually, when I’m getting ready, I’m dancing and singing along, and before I leave I sort of strike a pose while I shout “Who runs the world? Girls!” but now there is none of that. This is a serious issue.
Now that I’m looking, I’m thinking whose ass is that?

Looking in the mirror I am wondering; when did my ass and hips expand like this?

And what are those???  No way. Stop.
Are those love handles?? When did those show up?
Scared and in disbelief I collapse on the bed. Which was a mistake itself. Now I’m staring in horror and thinking What the – Where did all these rolls come from? (And no, I’m not talking about rolls of bread) I’m talking about someone has been eating too much chocolate cake.
Oh my god. I’m turning into the Michelin Man.

I run over to my closet to see what other pants I have, and I’m changing in and out of my pants so quick, it’s almost as if I am participating in a magic show when they hold up a curtain and reveal someone wearing a completely different outfit seconds later.

And then the heart-attack hits: 6 PAIRS OF PANTS DON’T FIT!
My palms get clammy… my pulse quickens… Flashbacks of the ticket price quickly comes rushing back to memory. I have only worn these pants 3 times! This has been a horrible investment!
Panic strikes as I think how I haven’t even gone through my other drawers where I have my shorts, skirts and capris tucked away.
Okay breathe. Breathe. This is fine. Everything is fine.

I just need a plan.

And that is how I decided it was time.
I had put it off as long as I could, but life caught up to me.
And now it was time to gain control of the situation. I needed to start exercising.

I was hoping that doing a few lunges and squats, maybe the odd sit up was going to do the trick but no results came about. I was hoping that maybe, just maybe, that this would achieve a 6-pack, hey I’d even settle for a 4-pack! But apparently that is not how it works.
It was time to join a gym.

Back in November I joined the gym. I didn’t want to be one of those “NEW YEAR,  NEW ME!” people, because I loathe those people. I had to beat the rush of crazy’s that would hog the machines but within a few weeks would never step foot in the gym until next year when they vowed to themselves that this would be the year.

Now, I was never one of those athletic people. I was slim, but luckily didn’t have to work for it. But now that my ass was growing and my hips are expanding – and for what purpose? Is my body preparing to pop some children out? Because let me tell you, there’s no need for that to happen anytime soon! – I decided that it was time to get out there.

The first day at the gym seemed intimidating. Why was everyone groaning so much when they lifted weights? Wasn’t that a sign to stop? Maybe time to go to the hospital to check if you have a hernia? That was when I learned to stay far away from that side of the gym.

I decided it would be safest over on the treadmill.
Buddy to my left looked like he was about to die, and buddy on my right looked like a hamster on the wheel in his glory.
Keeping it slow and easy to start, I decided it was time to crank things up a notch! Lets get this over with! Why run for a half hour at this pace, when I can run twice as fast and be done in 15 mins if I just give’er a little! Just think, 15 minutes in the gym, 30 minutes until I am lying down on the couch with ice cream tub in hand!

And that was when I remembered how much I hated running.
I’m holding onto the bars for dear life, my feet are going so fast I’m convinced one is about to fall off, and 1 minute of this feels like 10. I look over and buddy to my left looks like he staying on trying to prove something to himself, while I’m contemplating calling 911 for him, and buddy to my right has perfect posture and looks like he is going on a stroll through a nice neighbourhood. I decide the treadmill life isn’t for me, and head over to the elliptical. I pick a machine behind my buddy that is slowly dying so I can keep an eye on my new friend.

A month or so goes by and I’m heading to the gym about 3-4 times a week. I feel good, but now I’m getting bored. I have my music going, I have the little t.v. on that is attached to my machine but nothing helps. All I am thinking is: how good would it be to be lying horizontal right now?
Okay – so maybe machines aren’t my thing. How about joining a class?

I looked at the gym’s schedule to see what kinds of classes they offered and saw ZUMBA on the list and thought that could be fun. I’ve always loved dancing! I danced growing up and did it for almost 10 years.
Perfect! ZUMBA it is!
ZUMBA class rolls around and I’m slightly nervous – what if everyone is really good? I end up going to the gym a bit late and miss the class but I exercise upstairs where I can watch part of the class through the glass.

The music is going and it sounds like a club inside. I can watch the class but only can see the back half and from what I can see the class looks a bit uncoordinated.

I’m looking around at my future fellow dancer and think to myself: What is that one person doing? Is she making up her own routine? And that other person in the back corner; she is going left when everyone else is going right…..
Oh I can totally do this! I’m definitely more coordinated than that! And look at that other girl back there! She just quit all together and looks like she wants to slap the teacher!
Psh, easy peasy. Next class, I’ll go!

A lesson to everyone that reads this: This is why we don’t judge people.

I got to the class all wide-eyed and ready to learn. I’m eyeing up my competition and thinking I should probably be closer to the front but I’ll hang out in the back so I don’t make the others feel bad.

The music starts and I feel the adrenaline. It’s about to go down. The teacher calls out: Anyone new here? I look around waiting to see who else is new -but no one says anything. As I look around everyone just smiles welcoming at the teacher.

She looks around the room quickly and says okay great! Everyone looks familiar!

This is the first moment of uncertainty that hits me. Did she just say everyone looks familiar? Is there really no other beginners here?

The music all of a sudden starts blaring through the speakers and she’s yelling out “Let’s do this!”
And everyone starts doing a routine.

Now at this point I’m thinking oh crap. What did I get myself into.

Everyone’s arms and legs are moving about, and I’m trying to figure out what the steps are and am about 5 steps behind while I trip over my feet.

Suddenly the worst person in the class that I was watching before looks like a dancing goddess and I’m Bambi learning how to walk.

The teacher is this small little ball of energy running around the room, and I’m ready to dunk my head in a bucket of water to cool down.
Apparently there is no such thing as a break in ZUMBA.
One song rolls into the next, and in between songs occasionally some people will quickly run off to sip some water and then are back at it.

The first few songs go by and I’m gulping down water like a camel preparing myself until the next time I’m able to escape the dance floor.

Walking back on the floor, I try channelling my inner dancer. At one point in my life I was a half decent dancer. I can do this.
Feeling more confident I start hitting the moves better and starting to figure out the steps. After a few times of repetition I start to feel better. I got this! I’m learning the steps!

The beat in the song quickens, and we are all running to the left and then jumping up in the air, and then running to the right and jumping. I’m getting into, and then just as I jump up, the tempo suddenly changes and is much slower, and everyone in the class gets really low.

Oh….. Okay. Now we get low. Right….

Well, it has been about 2 months of ZUMBA now and I’m no pro, but I’m definitely a lot more coordinated! The love handles have been danced off and I’m having lot of fun.

So lessons to take from this:
1) There is such thing as a second puberty, and no it’s not always a glorious process.
2) Your metabolism starts to slow down, and suddenly eating a whole pizza yourself starts to have serious consequences.
3) Buy pants that have some stretch. You might think your ass has stopped growing but you are wrong. Those hips are expanding and if you want to wear those jeans you are going to need some give to get good use of them.

– Nikki

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