The Jazzercise Nazi

You may see her right before class, in her tiny black dance pants with the crazy designs down one leg and a teeny tiny workout tank. She is adjusting her Jazzercise belt and straightening her ponytail. She does a little neck roll and boxer step in her Rykas. She has a hard glint in her eye and a 200 calorie lunch to burn off. She is the Jazzercise Nazi and she is here to make your Jazzercise experience a worthwhile, yet hellish one.

I have my favorite teachers at Jazzercise. Well, one favorite teacher. The Nazi is not her. Not that she's not good - she's almost too good. She doesn't stop between songs, she can carry on a full conversation about Dancing With the Stars while chasseying and side stepping and hopping at the same time. While the other members of the class are dripping sweat and trying not to pass out, she glistens and continues to grin manically as she steps into the first beats of a Beyonce song.

Can you tell that I had a hard time at Jazzercise last night? Not that it wasn't fun and not that I didn't feel incredible after it was over. That whole endorphin myth is actually a reality. The JN's class is just the hardest one I've ever taken and she never stops! She never seems to get tired, even at the end of class when all anyone wants to do is stretch and then possibly lay there for thirty minutes and chat about the work day.

Oh well, today is a new day, with another class and another instructor tonight. We'll see how that goes.