So you think you can dance

To ensure that I have hobbies other than analyzing how I turn guys off, I signed up for a cardio class at a local dance studio. It's a "cardio striptease" class, where you learn "sexy moves" in the form of a cardio workout. No, you don't actually strip and yes, you actually do engage in a cardio workout, as I learned in the first class this past Saturday.

It was around noon and I walked into the studio and tentatively placed my purse on the window sill. I surveyed the other girls in the class. They looked to be yuppies or yuppies-to-be, in the twenty to thirty-something age range. The instructor, a professionally trained dancer and a former cheerleader for the city's NBA team, walked in with a cheery air of confidence, tossed her long blonde hair behind her shoulders, and beamed at the class. Her fitted turquoise tank top and black tights did little to hide her well-earned athletic physique. I looked at my own reflection in the mirror and couldn't help but feel frumpy in my baggy sweatpants and billowy t-shirt.

Before we learned our routine, we did a warm-up. One of our less modest moves was literally lying on our backs and thrusting our pelvises up and down. In other words, humping the air. As I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling, humping the air, I mused over the vision this would be for some random guy if he were to walk in. A bunch of twenty/thirty-something year old girls wearing tank tops on their backs, fornicating with the air.

But not every exercise was a pornstar-in-training move. There were sit-ups, leg lifts, push-ups. The most arduous part was extending our arms sideways and moving them in little circles. Sounds so easy, but it was sucking my will to live. Some girls had to stop after a while because it was so hard.

After our warm-up, we learned our dance routine. At first, I was totally lost, trying to keep up with all the seemingly complicated dance moves. But after a while, I sort of got it and, with the dance music playing, got into it. The swishing of our hips and calculated head tilts became fun.

Okay so it may be a while before we become the newest version of the Pussycat Dolls. This morning I woke up in pain. My entire body -- my legs, back, stomach, arms -- ached. I can barely walk without looking arthritic. Still though, I must admit it's a satisfying soreness, the kind that tells you that you had a good workout. I know that eventually the soreness will go away, and soon all of us will be athletic dancing sex goddesses. That, or at least in better shape.