On Monday night, I made up my mind.
I was going back to the gym for a BodyPump class. (For those who don’t know, BodyPump is one of Les Mills’ many classes taught at many gyms. It features loud music, weights, and a lot of reps. It’s more cardio than strength training. I like it, but haven’t been in pretty much FOREVER.)
So, I came home from work, walked the dog, changed into gym clothes, grabbed a water bottle and hurried over to the gym. I wanted to get there a little early because BodyPump takes some time to set up . . . and I didn’t want to be stuck at the very front of the class or the very back of the room.
When I got to the Y, the lights were off in the group fitness room and music was blaring. Through the frosted glass, I glimpsed another woman in there setting up her bench and weights for class, so I opened the door and wandered in.
As I gathered my bench, mat, and weights, I was surprised to see that there was another woman in the room who I hadn’t seen earlier. I began setting up my station, but she pulled my attention away from my task. She had plugged her phone into the stereo system and was blaring songs from her playlist. While class members wandered in and began setting up for class, she danced and swayed in the middle of the room, snapping her fingers and shuffling her feet, singing along to her favorite lyrics.
More and more people entered; no one acted like this was anything out of the ordinary. The woman switched songs, added a few spins, and kept dancing, hand atop her head. She was wearing a nice office button-down shirt, skinny pants, and I assumed the blazer I’d seen when I laid my purse down at the back of the room was hers.
Class was scheduled to start in 8 minutes and more and more people were pouring into the room, yet still she danced as people set up their spots all around her. She was oblivious, and we were all acting as if we were, too.
Finally, about 5 minutes before class, she turned off her music, unplugged her phone, and slipped into her black pumps. She gathered her jacket and left the room, singing the lyrics of the song she’d just turned off.
I don’t know if this was a regular occurrence for her or if she just had a bad day and thought to only was to redeem it was to dance the day off. But she danced like no one was looking, even though we were all pretending not to.
It was random and hilarious, but part of me just wanted to shout, “Dance on, lady!”