A while back during the A to Z blogging challenge, I said Mary and I were going to try Zumba. Ditch the workout, the Zumba website says, and join the party!

"Wait," said Rachel. "Is that like the Shakira dancing workout?"

"Yes!" I said.

"Mary's actually going to be good at that, and you're really NOT," she said.

I mean, how did she even know that?!

Anyway, at the first Zumba workout we tried, it didn't really matter that I couldn't shake it like Shakira because our teacher Mickey couldn't really either. He was a cool guy with shoulder-length hair and a thick mustache. We did some butt-waggling, but not a lot of choreography.

After each song, I looked to Mary for validation. "See?" I said. "I did that pretty well."

The next week, we decided to try a different teacher, who would maybe be a little dance-ier. Sure enough, I could tell I would have a much harder time from the very first song where complicated hip shaking and ball-changing was required. In fact, the only way I could even begin to follow Megan's routines ("Now diva walk!" "Now salsa!") was to stare directly at her ass for the entire hour.

I didn't realize I was doing it until halfway through, but I totally was. That's just how I Zumba.