I left the house intending to go to Jazzercise.
Instead, the universe apparently scheduled me for a dog-themed adventure with a side of cardio.
Before class, I stopped at the Starbucks that’s on the way to Jazzercise. It’s not my regular Starbucks, but it gets the job done. Coffee was acquired. Egg bites were secured. Most importantly, they were warm but not molten lava this time.
While I was sitting in the parking lot, I spotted a beautiful husky mix in the back seat of a nearby vehicle. Her name was Dakota. The owner saw me smiling and talking to the dog from a distance and kindly invited me over to pet her.
Dakota reminded me so much of my old dog Shell Bell that it was almost a sensory flashback. The fur, the expression, the personality—something about her instantly took me back. For a few minutes, I got my husky snuggles, and it absolutely made my day.
That encounter also reminded me of another special dog named Clyde.
My friend Valerie has two Bernese Mountain Dog rescues, Max and Clyde. After a pinball tournament one evening, Clyde parked himself next to me and leaned against my leg exactly the way Shell Bell used to. For nearly two hours, I sat there running my fingers through his fur while he quietly kept me company.
Honestly, it was some of the best therapy I’ve ever received.
Then it was time for Jazzercise.
Today’s outfit was inspired by equal parts nostalgia and ridiculousness. I wore my Grease leggings, hot pink scrunchy socks, and earrings featuring John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John dancing together. If I’m going to exercise, I might as well enjoy getting dressed for it.
Robin’s shirt may have been the most relatable part of the entire class.
“I workout to burn off the crazy.”
I laughed when I saw it because that’s funny, but it’s also true.
Over the years I’ve learned that movement helps me regulate. Walking helps. Pinball helps. Jazzercise helps. Animals help. Coffee doesn’t hurt either.
Fitbit wasn’t entirely convinced that Jazzercise was the best idea. It politely informed me that my recovery score wasn’t great and suggested I consider a more restful day.
Jazzercise Receipts
Instead, I spent over 40 minutes dancing around a room trying to remember choreography, translate ballet terminology, and figure out which direction I was supposed to be moving.
Fitbit later informed me that I had accumulated 80 Active Zone Minutes and spent most of the class in vigorous exercise zones.
Apparently my body was working much harder than my brain realized.
The class itself was fun, although I still maintain that the strategic spacing between participants creates a challenge. It’s wonderful because nobody gets kicked or elbowed.
It’s less wonderful when you need someone nearby to copy.
At one point, I found myself wishing everybody was just a little closer together so I could glance sideways and verify that I was, in fact, moving in the correct direction.
Childhood memories have a funny way of resurfacing during moments like that.
Every now and then I still hear my mother’s voice from an old talent show:
“Christy, you’re going the wrong way!”
Fortunately, these days the memory makes me laugh more than anything else.
After class, I sat in my car reviewing my Fitbit stats and putting together notes for this post.
Apparently I sat there long enough that another Jazzercise member came over to make sure I was okay.
As it turns out, she was a friend of a friend and had been sent to check on me.
I’m happy to report that I was not having a crisis.
I was simply trapped in a conversation with my Fitbit.
On the way to the car wash afterward, I spotted a corgi sitting in the passenger seat of a Prius looking like it owned the vehicle. I remain convinced that corgis approach life with the confidence of middle managers.
The car wash itself brought another adventure. My credit card had changed since my last visit, and for a brief moment I thought they might charge me for several missed months.
Thankfully, they only charged the current month.
Crisis averted.
I also noticed that the Whataburger where Bubba the drummer gets breakfast every morning has closed. I’m hoping he’s adapted and found a new breakfast headquarters at the nearby QT.
And yes, I realize this is a completely normal thing to worry about.
By the end of the day, I had accomplished the following:
– Pet a dog.
– Remember another dog.
– Burn off the crazy.
– Survive choreography.
– Get checked on by the Jazzercise neighborhood watch.
– Spot a corgi executive.
– Wash the car.
– Worry about a drummer’s breakfast situation.
Not bad for a Thursday.
Sometimes wellness isn’t about perfection.
Sometimes it’s coffee, dogs, movement, community, and a collection of small moments that make you smile.
All those moments still count.
For more summer shenanigans, check this out.