I think every rider has seen the ancient horse statues as a symbol of partnership through the ages… Like crop circles in a field, they provide a certain validation. We are crazy… But we are not alone J Not in this world and not throughout history.
The greek’s have the horse thing covered… I mean Alexander the Great sets the war horse tone with his Bucephalus http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bucephalus from ancient times and his horsey relationship is well documented… Even the greek word praus is where we english speaking peeps get the word meek from - meaning power under control (in context with animals particularly the taming of a high spirited horse).
One put it: Harnessed power but never forfeited.
I kinda like that!
An oh so interesting thing to think about, since we riders completely understand when we have more power then control and vice versa
We aim to find a balance, or at least a close version of it. The goal of a ride is to end up getting off on a good note… But some days we get off with a pasted smile while the inner child with Olympic dreams cry's a tiny yell of defeat and dies a little more.
Dramatic>?!???? Do you KNOW any actual riders? I think I am mellow… By standards (cough).
Anywho, I do have a new video of me and the Red bullet.
I’ll get to that…. For now I am updating you on the Zumba soggy bottom saga. Now say THAT ten times fast ! It’s cha-cha-riffic and the only way to get a room full of grown woman shaking their ta-ta’s in the name of health without having dollars thrown at them.
Don’t worry guys! (like guys read this)
We think we look like this
But actually we look like this
N—ooo --- ooo --- t pretty, eh?
Oh, I have so much to blog about lately. Klassical dressage, wessage, pony envy, and BB boards that need a “Stop the insanity clique”.
Alas, only so much time - back to the jiggling.
So the very same day I put my foot down (resounding jiggle), I checked my gym schedule to see that very eve there was a class… 2$? Who cares if I already pay a membership… Sold!
Now, my first instinct was to invite everyone I knew to come with because I hate doing these very social but awkwardly so events. I wanna meet you and see you sweat- in that order.
My friends were supportive:Last minute invite to go workout at the gym when I am supposed to be eating dinner with my family? Sure! You can guess how many people offered to come with me…. Zero or cero ? Spanish in the name of Zummmmmbbaaaaaaaaaaaa!
It doesn’t hurt that everytime I hear Zumba I think Simba from the Disney movie The Lion King where Mufasa yells SIMBA!!!!! Before falling to his death… Well I usually change my thoughts to the Hakuna Matata song at that point as I did when I was a child watching that horror scene blocking my thoughts subconsciously of my own death and that of my family with songs about “don’t worry for the rest of your days!” Lifes lessons in cartoon… Who thought of this?… Bambi anyone?
So the class begins with an energetic tiny woman who kills the lights (thank God) and hits the music…. Cha cha! Everybody! (rolled r’s)
Shake this and shake that, jump jump jump, and even turn around a lot of times so the people in the back of the room get their chance to be up front exactly where they DIDN’T want to be… Ugh! No winning with my stay at the back routine this time. Can’t fool you tiny energetic woman with hips that shake like a salt shaker!
Thankfully my previous dance classes helped me stay in time and in line… Er NOT! I was floundering around cha’s and ta’s since it is simply a follow along and eventually you will get it type class. Eventually. IF not drop your 2$’s in the jar and hit the road jack.
Good thing was, I was so busy jumping around and around in the dark room to the actually pretty motivating music, I had no time to think about much else then the calories I was burning.
My horsey and her back will thank me!
But then the strangeness begins… The music changes and another person comes mysteriously to the center of the room... She begins a slower more sensuous dance… Belly dancing>? I am checking around to make sure one of the Zumbaist haven’t gone postal. Like maybe one of the suburbanites have finally cracked. One too many pop tart requests at the Smith house this afternoon and Mr. Smith is late from work again since that new receptionist with the body of a fourteen year old started, and she has decided to take it out on all of us Zumba enthusiast because we embody the sexy and foreign (obviously)…
Okay, anyway, no one is freaking, so she must be part of the regularly scheduled program, and apparently everyone gets these nifty jingly waste bands decorated with flashy jewelry and things that make bell sounds to put on for effect. Er… You all have them? Im the only one who does not? You want to know if I want to borrow your’s? Um, maybe next time, I’m still new at this (and incredibly unsure if I want to wear a harem girls outfit to work out, I mean I just met you people)… Besides it may clash with my nike wear?
So after a song or two of this it becomes okay, or maybe I am too tired to protest at this point, hence it being towards the end of the class. But then suddenly we went back to more jumping and sweating.
At the end of the class when you are partially delusional from your brain being sloshed around Zumba style you are able to purchase one of the fancy shmancy get ups to be your own private harem girl at home (nod).
Ohhh could I!???
Plenty to like and I will be returning as it is a very fun cardio class that keeps me moving-harem outfits notwithstanding J