Bhangra and bliss

Today, I took part in an event I held second thoughts about. Mostly, out of fear. Yes, the fear of being seen, of the mockery in my childhood.
I was often picked last for teams in gym, with the exception of that being in 5th grade, when I excelled at kickball.
I took place in Self Magazine’s Workout in the Park. At first, I was a bit overwhelmed by the crowds. The old worries crept up. But I joined one class and then collected some water, samples, and my daughter dragged me to the front for the next class, which I did not know.
The instructor introduced herself, told us that her father had died at 47, and making this workout was her homage to him. It was Masala Bhangra, and it was all I could do not to stop moving. The sun was full overhead and bright upon my back as u sweated and shimmied, danced with the other women in an aerobic frenzy. I came alive, there were no doubts. There was me, part of this energetic sea of women bouncing and grinding to the beat.
I had the luck of meeting the instructor, Sarina Jain, as I was leaving the park later on. I thanked her profusely and she gave me a hug. Awesome!

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About downszdiva

Freelance writer, blogger, foodie. Ph ilosopher, Jersey girl (not to be confused with the 'shore'). Animal rescue, lover of strong coffee.
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