Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Water Aerobics


It is a cannonball right into the shallow end. No one needs to know that I do this to avoid going down the ladder . . . nope, the class just thinks it’s me, being me, and a little testy.

I LOVE my water aerobics class. The class includes a great bunch of strong-minded gals that I have gotten to know over maybe seven years. I don’t remember exactly when I started the class; sometime before the rumblings of a divorce and sometime after my first born, Jed left for college. It was also around this time that my daughter Lila told me, “Mom, you need to get in touch with your inner-bitch”. Lila was edgy; shocking me . . . however, she was right. Following her advice has served me well during the subsequent years when the divorce took place, the house got sold, the new home was purchased, and Oh My God! Online dating. Yes, Leslie-bitch gave me strength, but I learned it in aerobics class.

The class is all about the people. I mean, we all come to exercise our bodies, and the instructors oblige: for instance, today, my tush is a box of knotted rope, hopelessly tangled. However, I continue not for the butt muscles (which do add to my thoughts of being a strong bitch) but because of the dynamic women.

In this class is my friend, Giovanna, a Russian Jew; formerly an engineer, currently an apartment manager. Her accent is thick with history. She emigrated from Saint Petersburg with her then-husband and infant son. That had to be rough. Divorced now and on her own she saves her money from a condo she rents out in Boston and uses the cash for travel to Israel to visit a cousin, a cruise on the Mediterranean, or a Manhattan tour with friends – some from aerobics class.

Giovanna collects the displaced people who reside in the apartment building; Ecuadorians, Brazilians and recently single people. One evening last December, Giovanna invites us over for a Chanukah feast with her assemblage. There are four languages represented amongst the eight people seated at her table. The food: authentic homemade latkes, luscious chicken, and fruited salads. Giovanna’s inner-bitch informs Stewart that she never pours her own drink…when there is a man in the room. She is sending side-long glances and well placed kicks in Stewarts’ direction most of the evening reminding him that the contents of her glass is dangerously low of the Greek licour she loves which eventually knocks me on my knotted ropes.

1 comment:

  1. I took a lifeguarding course last spring, and it always ended right before the water aerobics class began. The people taking the class always seemed to have so much fun! It was almost as much of a social hour as it was a workout. Sometimes I wish my workouts could be that much fun :)