I first got into aerobics as a teenager, thanks to a Jane Fonda workout record. At around 13 or 14, I was captivated by Jane’s vibrant style—those colorful tights and legwarmers were iconic. I never quite grasped why my babysitter’s mother held such disdain for her, but my mom explained it had something to do with Vietnam.
In my mauve-colored room, adorned with Laura Ashley wallpaper and plush carpeting, I would spin the record and leap around, performing for my goldfish, Ginger and Fred. They seemed to sway to the rhythm, poor creatures. Sadly, by the time I left for college, they didn’t survive long; my family forgot about them.
Eventually, I progressed to a local studio called “Fit & Fun,” within walking distance. I had the leotard—oh yes, a purple one purchased from Shillito’s in Cincinnati. I paired it with Reebok high tops, shiny soccer shorts, blue eyeliner, and Revlon’s Silver City Pink lipstick.
My passion for aerobics blossomed over the years. I was never particularly athletic; while I could swim well, competition intimidated me. Aerobics made me feel like an athlete. In college, I scheduled my classes around the IU Fit program at the student center. During the summer, however, my parents didn’t understand my frustration when I couldn’t attend aerobics due to work obligations. My brother and I shared a car and his later schedule often meant I missed classes. Outraged, I sometimes convinced a high school coworker to drive me home, even if it was a detour. If I got home in time, I could borrow my mom’s car to make it to class.
By my late 20s or early 30s, life got complicated—divorce, real relationships, rebuilding my life—and my connection with aerobics faded. The purple leotard vanished, as did the memories of Jane and my goldfish.
This summer, a friend invited me to a Jazzercise class, and I found myself in a familiar setting. The studio layout, the enthusiastic instructor, and mostly female participants brought back memories. The music thumped with energy, and the instructor’s motivational remarks mirrored my past experiences.
But things had changed. I carry a bit more weight now; the pinched nerve in my foot and sore knees are reminders of aging. There’s no chance I’m slipping into a leotard now. At 40, after having twin babies, my attire consists of old yoga pants and a T-shirt from a family reunion that boasts “Proud to Be Italian!”—an identity that often surprises people.
Returning to aerobics feels like reconnecting with an old love. In class, I may not look graceful, but I feel invigorated. I can still keep up with the best of them. I no longer stress over attendance; I cherish any time I can carve out amidst family and work. When I can’t make it to class, I dance around the kitchen, showing off my new moves. My family is fortunate to have a mom who embraces fun.
My rekindled romance with aerobics has led me to leave the gym I rarely attended and invest in a Jazzercise membership. I might even treat myself to some new workout gear—perhaps even some fresh blue eyeliner! I recently learned that Jane has released her classic exercise video on DVD again, and I’m eager to check it out.
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In summary, my journey with aerobics has evolved from a youthful passion into a joyful escape in my busy life. While I may have left my leotard behind, the spirit of movement and connection remains strong.