Where's Your Inner Sexy?

My freezer/pantry challenge is going quite well. Last Sunday I backslid a little and bought a few things from Walmart. Mainly it was things for an easy lunch, but I also bought a couple of items that I was craving. No harm in that, right? This morning I cheated a little and started cleaning out the pantry and kitchen freezer. I found things that I knew we weren't going to eat (a HUGE bag of oatmeal not even opened as well as other things that we just don't eat anymore). Tomorrow they'll be on their way to a local hangout for ladies. After church I worked on the freezer. I found some stuff that was pretty freezer burnt so I went ahead and tossed it. One was a bag of peas. I honestly stood there and tried to remember when I bought them...I finally remembered and realized that I'd had them for almost two and a half years! I guess it's time to go.

Anyway, although I cheated a bit, I'm still on track. All we've bought lately has been milk, cheese, fruits, and veggies. We're trying to cut out refined sugars as much as possible...pasta, rice, and breads....whimper. I'm not really excited about it, but I have a feeling we'll feel better once we're in the groove.

Which brings me to my title.

About a year ago I attended a Zumba class. Not sure if anyone remembers, but my opinion of the experience was...less than pleasing. The music wasn't that great, the teacher couldn't hold a beat, and the dancer in me would not let go of basic principles. I hated every booty-shaking minute of it.

And, for reasons explained below, I went to another Zumba class yesterday.

Let's first start here: I have been begging Ryan to power wash our driveway and sidewalk...but with Lane around, it makes it hard to actually make any progress on anything. We therefore planned for me to take Lane to the gym Saturday morning and Ryan would get as much power washing done as possible while we were gone. It seemed like a win-win. The only thing was that Zumba was the only class during that window of time I had to work with (there's also a two-hour minimum on the childcare there...kind of a bummer...I'm kidding! Sort of.). Although I didn't have to go to the class, I find the treadmills boring and I just do better in a group setting.

Let me also say that Ryan has been working on me lately on giving people (and experiences) the benefit of the doubt. So...I figured I'd give Zumba another try.

I went in and saw a few friends that I already knew as well as the lady and daughter duo that I attend the kick boxing class with (mainly we just laugh most of the time and talk about how the teacher is of the devil). I couldn't believe how many ladies were in this class! There must have been 25-30 women all excited that they were going to 'shake it'. I took my place in the back, made sure I could see the teacher, and made sure no one could see me in the mirror.

And then the music started.

And then the hips started.

And then the boobies started.

And then I wondered what the heck I was doing there.

I started looking around and watching different ladies (I'm seriously good at people watching. If there was a job for it, I'd probably make a killing at it). There were all different ages, stages, shapes, and sizes. Next to me there was a large woman totally shaking everything. There were women my mom's age, women ten years older than me, girls ten years younger than me, and LOTS of ladies my age...all gettin' down...and I mean down. I honestly didn't get it. What in the WORLD would entice them to clench their fists, pump in their crotchal region (Ryan and I made up that word...it's definitely real), and hump thin air? All while laughing and shouting? I mean sure, they want a work out, but they could get a good workout doing any other aerobics class, right?

And then it hit me.

Maybe they're all just trying to find their inner sexy.

I read in a blog post once (can't remember which one) about this lady's son that asked her what 'sexy' meant. She told him that it meant to feel good in your own skin. I started thinking about that yesterday and realized that I've only felt sexy a few times in my life. I've seldom felt good or even comfortable in my own skin...which is partly why I'm eating better and trying to live a healthier lifestyle this year. In a few months, I'm hoping to be healthier and, while I don't care if I lose a few pant sizes or minimize the mid-section 'pudge' that Lane so lovingly left behind (if I do, though, I'm totally cool with it), I do want to feel better about myself. As I watched these 25 women dance around the room with loud music and sweat pouring down, I understood.

I got it.

And I had a blast.

Afterward I introduced myself to a few new friends and told them I'd be back on Wednesday night for another round. We laughed about jiggly bits and floppy boobs and how it's so much fun to shake them anyway. This morning I woke up with sore muscles and a little smile came to my face. I also promised myself that I'm going to give up my floppy t-shirts and the pants that fall down, and I'm trading them in for shorts and a tank top. If big girl next to me can do it and still shake it, I can, too. It's funny what you can realize in a short hour with loud music and hips shaking.

I want to feel sexy. I want to feel free and sexy enough to fist pump my crotch and shake my boobs and not care what people think of me.

Right after I find a better bra.