Verified by 
I do power yoga and I'm proud of it. Those long, sweaty routines, with the instructors, forever serene (or mildly stoned, depends who you get), hammering in the significance of controlling your exhales. Yoga is the union on body, mind and breath, which we strive to achieve on and off the mat. Yada yada yada. Sure, I do that, and it gets me exhaling and toned, but last weekend I have seen the light.
It happened at a yoga equipment store on New York City's Upper West Side, which shall remain nameless but for the hint that it has a sour citrus in its name. The store is part of a chain and each branch gives at least one free yoga class a week en suite. This one offered a Saturday morning Zumba class with a hot, nay dashing instructor from the 92nd st. Y. I think his name was Roy, but I may be mistaken. In any event, Zumba, as advertised on the Zumba.com website, is a "fusion of Latin and International music that creates a dynamic, exciting, and effective fitness system." Their slogan is "ditch the exercise join the party". And what a party. We watched Roy (I think) in his blue bandana and matching blue eyes, as he swayed us on the store floor. The music, Latin and sensuous, rocked, and so did we. One two three, kick, one, kick, two kick. Sounds a little like aerobics? Maybe Jazzercise? Depends what year you matured in. Sure, it's the same old routine, but with a twist. Was it Roy, the good natured Upper West Side ladies, even the chunky one who danced like a queen, when Roy held her in his arms, the healthy breakfast that awaited (gratis!), or the combination of sexy music, good rhythm, and a few laughs with an instructor who looks like he just stepped off the sidewalks of Beverly Hills? All of the above, I think. Sure, it wasn't rigorous. We did more bouncing than I usually condone, and substantially less controlled breathing, oh but it was fun. So much so that I would love to come again, which is what it's all about, isn't it?
Because how many of us make New Year resolutions to go to the gym (and the New Hebrew Year is as good an excuse as any), but how may of us also persist?
A friend told me he was working with a personal trainer, but he was doing it at the gym. "The ladies can't stop looking," he bragged. "Are you wearing spandex?" I asked. "No," he replied. "But they are. And let me tell you, the ones who should not be wearing spandex are the ones most likely to do it." Much as he mocked the spandex wearers, he was regularly going to the gym, adding upper body strength and losing the gut, but also enjoying the female stares. If that's all it takes to keep a guy healthy and exercising, it cannot be bad.
A few laughs, some flirtation, fun, company. These make for a good life. Turns out, they also make for a good, persistent, workout.
