A Wicked Choice
“I was in my own little world when I taught. Closing the door and turning up the sound, I shut out the rest of the world. Here, I could be free. It was the only place, in fact, where I actually felt good at something, like I was doing something worthwhile. Today was the start of a new session of classes. I’d begin the day with something called “EZ Step-tastic,” a beginning cardiovascular step class for those just starting out with step aerobics. Later, I’d teach “Pump It,” a challenging, strengt...h training class which I had personally developed, followed by an easy yoga class.
As the students filed in for Step-tastic, their leotard and sweat pant clad figures dispersing around the room, I turned to greet them. Most of them were familiar faces at the community center.
“Hello, Sally! Beth, how’re the kids? How’s Tom?” I kept up an easy chitty chatty banter as they filled the room. This was one of the only places I could do this. The rest of the time I was a graceless mess with nothing to say; sure no one would listen anyway.MoreLess
As the students filed in for Step-tastic, their leotard and sweat pant clad figures dispersing around the room, I turned to greet them. Most of them were familiar faces at the community center.
“Hello, Sally! Beth, how’re the kids? How’s Tom?” I kept up an easy chitty chatty banter as they filled the room. This was one of the only places I could do this. The rest of the time I was a graceless mess with nothing to say; sure no one would listen anyway.MoreLess
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