Fatdance

My wedding was about 3 1/2 years ago and I can count on one hand the amount of times that I have engaged in any sort of exercise since then. I bought a wedding dress that was slightly too small and then forced myself to fit into it, so when that ring went on my finger I was like, “YES!!! BRING ON THE PIZZA!” And that’s been my life motto since November 11, 2011. Because w00t someone loved me and three cheers for obesity!

Flash forward to a couple weeks ago when this post appeared in Facebook news feed:

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In case you were not aware, I like, LOVE dancing. Dancing is the one thing I can do at any weight because my desire to rock out will always be greater than my fatness. I’m not even that great at it, but damnit, I love it and I don’t care. I was fat* the entire time I was on my high school dance team, so while some of my former team members may have been nervous about rehearsing for this reunion show with their newly acquired mommy/post-wedding/I’m-not-16-anymore bodies, I was not quite as worried.

*The type of fat that wasn’t actually that fat and I would drown kittens now if it meant I could be that “fat” again (not puppies, though).

Okay, I was a little worried because while my passion for getting funky is always tops, that also makes me forget the “physical limitations” of my body. I have a tendency to jump right in, dance full-out, and die on the floor in a red-faced, sweaty haze. And then I get mad because the outstanding Britney Spears choreography in my head never comes out the way I want it to.

Anyway, I went to the first practice for this reunion show on Wednesday. I made my friend Mellissa go with me because I am awkward and needed her to be my social crutch. She also hates most people and it’s really funny. Here we are before the practice:

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She tried to take a picture after the practice, but I pumped the brakes on that idea REALLY fast. I hadn’t looked in a mirror yet, but I knew the level of ug that was happening because I felt like my face was on fire and I could feel my ass sweat soaking through my pants.

We did this dance called the “Workout” that every member of the Rogers High School Performing Dance Team learned from 1983-2004. Most people were re-learning it because over the years, they made room in their brains for more important things. I, however, am Rain Man and still remembered the whole thing because my head can never be filled with enough dance moves.

I hid in the back row because although I was confident in my memory of the dance, I was not confident that I would not straight up die from a heart attack.

Hey! Want to play a fun game? It’s called “Find the Fat Girl Hiding in the Back”!

I think I ultimately did better than I expected (for example, I didn’t die). However, that practice was 2 1/2 days ago and I’m still walking like a newborn giraffe calf. Yesterday at work, I took the elevator from the 1st floor to the 2nd floor. It’s pretty pathetic.

That being said, I’m going back to practice next week. I’m probably even going to start exercising again outside of that once a week rehearsal. I’m OK with being fat, but I’m not OK with being fat and unable to dance like a rockstar. The reunion show isn’t until September, so I’ve got a little bit of time. My goals for the show are as follows:

  • Don’t hide in the back row.
  • Don’t turn a shade of red that makes it look like I colored my face in with Taylor Swift’s lipstick.
  • Don’t get tricked into wearing a unitard in public.
  • Don’t die.

I think these are pretty legit aspirations and I have high hopes for myself. The date for the show is probably September 26, but when it has been confirmed I will let you all know so you can come and take bets on whether or not I actually meet the above goals.

 

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3 thoughts on “Fatdance

  1. Boy, that brings back memories! You’re dumber than I thought if you think you sucked. Why did everyone else stop halfway through? You were awesome!

    • Hahaha thanks, Kristin. We did the beginning and end of the Workout, but we have to figure out that messed up middle part. The middle is broken into 4 parts (Jazz 1, Ballet, Jazz 2, Hip Hop/Funk) and everyone danced in a different part (and those parts seemed to change slightly over the years). We kind of have to piece it all back together.

  2. Pingback: mArY*s ZoNe Is 1 Year Old! | mArY*s ZoNe

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