Zumba and the Resurrection

I'm writing this from the other side of the veil.
I think.
Because I'm pretty sure I died last night
after my body realized
what the heck I did to it
in the Zumba! class.

I showed up early,
met the teacher
and confessed that I have
two left feet...
"No problem!, she smiled,
just keep moving even when you don't know the steps."

I tried to act like I "belonged" in that class--
that I'm not pushing 49 years old
and that
I know how to
rumba
marengue
cha-cha
and
belly dance like the rest of 'em.

"Ahh, just like aerobics class I went to in
1991...
I can do this."
I lied to myself.

The class had maybe 25 gals in it--
I wasn't the oldest--
Whew!
I happened to be right behind
a cute little thang
who knew every move
every step
every turn
every arm movement
so I followed her
as best as I could...
for the first 20 minutes---
I was
Zumba-ing!

About that time,
my ears sent a message to my brain
that I could hear my heartbeat in it...
and all that time I thought it was just
the bass in the latin beat ringing in my ears.
Okay, Okay
I told my brain,
I'll go get some water.

Fifteen minutes later,
I am a shell of my former
Zumba-self--
my feet are moving
tho my arms are limp noodles
and
oh-my-Aunt-Nancy!
I'm sweating
not
"misting"
but full-on -WWF-style
sweating!
This was great news to my brain
right?
Cause it meant I was
actually burning the blubber off my
big bahooey!

Only one prob with that realization--
grey sweats...
I wore grey sweats.
Not black,
like every other
Zumba-er in the room.
Don't wear grey sweats when you're
forty-nine years old
and
sweating like a WWF wrestler.
It's not attractive.
IN fact,
don't wear grey sweats--
I looked like a dancing elephant
doing the cha-cha.

My fatigue drove me to do
something I told myself 
I wouldn't do--
look at the clock.
To my utter amazement and glorious delight
there was only 20 minutes left!
Twenty minutes!
I could salsa for twenty more minutes--
even though it looked like I was barely moving,
in my mind
I was shakin' what my Momma gave me
all over the place!

I stopped trying to memorize the steps
and just moved with the music,
and I started looking around the room
at the other women--
some were at the same place I was --
I smiled at the old hens like me
and they gave that knowing smile back to me--
the one that says,
I know you.
You're Me.
We're doin' good just to be here!
We used to come to Aerobics when our kids were
small and could be bribed with
chicken nuggets and fruit snacks--
and we havent' dragged our bahooey's
to the gym since the oldest started
high school
but
it's our turn now!

Yes, that's exactly our thoughts.

And we laughed--
at ourselves
for our Selves!
Good on us!
As the music slowed
and we did our last cool down moves,
my brain whispered
"Thank you."
Then my heart chimed in,
"Thank you."
Ahhh, I needed this...

However,

My first sign that I was dying
showed up
about 5 minutes later
when I was walking with Mr W
and the yahoos to the car...
it started off like the sound of a
"Who",  as in "Horton Hears a Who"--
I wasn't sure where the noise was coming from
but it was getting louder.

By the time we got home,
and it was time to ya know, get out of the car,
the noise was getting louder...
something about
"pain" --
though I couldn't be 100% certain.

I lay down in bed
plum.wore.out.--
ready for the healing that sleep brings
and that must've been when it happened...
my body overpowered my brain
in a massive-revolutionary-style protest
and
every muscles, tendon,
and hair follicle
collapsed into a heap of pain--
and that's when I crossed over to the other side.

My hope for a resurrected body couldn't be more
important to me than it is right now--
because there's another class on
Saturday.