Step-Aerobics Class

I made one of the biggest mistakes of my life yesterday.

When I was at the Vatican Health Spa last night, I thought I was joining a kick boxing class. Instead, I read the calendar wrong and found myself involved in a step-aerobics class.

I had no idea what I was doing. I thought about escaping, but I was too embarrassed to leave. I had to at least pretend that I intentionally joined this class—at least for a little while. I kept staring at the clock, praying the class would end quickly. God did not answer my prayer.

I fixed my eyes on the instructor and tried to keep up with him. This was quite difficult because: (a) I have no rhythm; (b) I’m not coordinated; (c) I couldn’t understand a word the instructor was saying; (d) the dance music was too loud; and (e) I have no rhythm.

(a) I have no rhythm
I might be able to sing Gregorian chants, but I have no rhythm. I can’t even clap to a song. This is a severe problem in a step class.

(b) I’m not coordinated
I’ve never been coordinated. It also doesn’t help that I have a giant white robe that trips me every time I try and step.

(c) I couldn’t understand a word the instructor was saying
My instructor was always out of breath and yelled out instructions in step jargon that apparently everyone else understood except me. I can speak almost 10 languages fluently, but I couldn’t understand one word of step-aerobics.

(d) The dance music was too loud
Step-aerobics uses an entirely new breed of music. It takes terrible pop song, speeds them up so the voices sound like Alvin and the Chipmunks, and then the songs are laced with a pumping drum sound. It made me want to commit suicide. I knew that Ashlee Simpson music was sinful, but the step-aerobic remix versions are just plain damnable. Producers of such music ought to be dragged into the center of Dante’s inferno.

(e) I have no rhythm

I will never, never, never, ever join a step class again.