Smiling in Spandex

By Amy Coward

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I finally know what I want to be when I grow up. An aerobics instructor. Or maybe they’re called fitness instructors now. Whatever they are, they are the happiest people on the planet and I want to be one of them.

I was in a class at the gym just this week and two bubbly young women were there to teach. They were smiling and had a lively banter going that rivaled Kathie Lee and Hoda. Even though the hour ahead was going to be somewhat torturous, they were happy as could be. Why?

Well first of all, their feet didn’t hurt. Unlike the rest of us hobbling along in high heels all day, they had on athletic shoes. They were ready to jump and shake and shimmy to burn off calories and were not concerned at all about looking graceful in their stilettos.

And then you look at their clothes – ahh, spandex. Capri-length spandex pants and a fitted tank top. Not exactly the dress code for most businesses. But they looked awesome and I stood there wondering how many of these classes it would take for me to look that good in spandex – probably more than they offer.

Aside from the clothes, these ladies had something else that was very appealing. They smiled more than any humans I had ever seen – especially humans at work. From the very beginning, they smiled from ear to ear and shouted, “how ya’ll doing today!” “Let’s do this!” And from then on, with every leg kick, with every deep-knee lunge, with every burpee, they smiled and laughed and carried on like they were on a true endorphin high. I wanted what they had in spite of the pain they were putting me in. I watched their every move, followed their footwork and tried to keep up. But they were agile and fast and I was often lagging behind. And I’m pretty sure I wasn’t smiling.

They shouted “you’ve got this!” and “keep it up!” I groaned and moaned with audible “ughs” as I tried to imitate their moves. They were doing the advanced version; I was barely hanging on to basic. They were firing off rep after rep. I, well…was not. I began to think their smiles, their slim physique and comfy clothes might be what I really want about their job. Not the pain, discomfort and sweat.

So, thankfully, my day job awaits me tomorrow. I’ll have to wear heels and will not be allowed in spandex (a good thing, no doubt). But it’s all just as well. I don’t think I could smile that much anyway.

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