Jazzercise: Not a Manly Endeavor, First Person

First, you need to understand that I’m a male. Second, you need to understand that I’m, occasionally, an idiot; I don’t always think things through.

I’m guessing most of you know what “Jazzercise” is. “Male it ain’t”, as, I learned the hard way,

I was starting to have a little trouble fitting into my slacks so I decide it was time to shed a few pounds. I had tried dieting but I’m always shoveling something in my mouth so it doesn’t work. I don’t like to run because I don’ go far before I get too tired and, while I love to swim, it’s hard to always find a pool.
So, I decided to try Jazzercise.

I showed up wearing Bermuda shorts and a cut off sweat shirt. The rest of the class was female and the instructor made me come to the front. I imagine that was to keep me from ogling the women. She needn’t have worried. While the women were dressed rather scantily (but in designer work-out clothes), within thirty seconds, I was so tired I couldn’t see, let alone focus.

I really didn’t know what to expect but soon found out.

This group of women, in unison, hopped, twisted, skipped, dipped, jumped on obstacles, jumped over obstacles, fell on their backs and pedaled and I don’t know what else because I was too close to passing out.
I do remember the instructor shouting, “Push ’till it burns. If you ever have a baby you want to just “drop and roll”". What? That didn’t even make sense to me!

I slowly dropped through the ranks trying to get out of sight of the instructor. Also my shorts were getting loose and I was very worried the ladies would soon be ogling me. Well, more than likely they would have been giggling.

About ten minutes into the class the instructor stopped everyone and said “sir”, it’s really not necessary to try to do everything your first night. Nothing like class pity.

Well, after an eternity, the class ended, and, I collapsed by the door. As each woman left and looked at me in my woeful state, I thought I detected a look of triumph, and, yes, even superiority in their eyes.

You ladies wouldn’t look at me that way; would you?

As a postscript to this feat I got in better shape and went back for a visit to put these feminine people in their place; physically, not “genderally.”

I should have known I would lose again!