We put on exercise clothes.
For one of us, that consisted of a t-shirt and a pair of his pajama shorts. Comfy.
For the other one of us, the ensemble was made up of two sports bras and stretchy pants. Scary.
We drew the blinds.
We then moved the furniture.
We turned on... "The Core" dance fitness program.
We began moving.
Not long into the DVD, we started hearing popping noises, accompanied by a click here and there.
No, the DVD was not experiencing technical difficulties.
We were, as we are old, stiff, and out of shape.
We began to sweat.
We tried not to make eye contact with the other or glance in the mirror, for fear of losing all control and complete hope for making it through the workout.
One of us removed his shirt and wrapped it around his head while he continued to rhythmically gyrate around like the ladies on the screen were making look so fun.
The other one of us, acknowledging how silly we both must have looked, succumbed to her laughter, nearly peed her pants, and ended up on the floor with tears in her eyes.
We regained our focus, and kept going.
We had to open the sliding glass door for air.
We decided some of the movements were too fast, so we ran in a little circle (that had about a ten foot diameter) around the living room instead.
While doing so, we had to cautiously maneuver with some way fancy footwork around the dogs, both of whom were laying on the floor, staring at us with mystified, bewildered looks on their faces.
We eventually collapsed on the floor, remaining there in silence for a while as we continued to watch the dancing ladies show us more of their fabulousness. The "merengue." The "samba." You know, the easy stuff.
We ended our exercise session with some crunches.
Now if that's not love in all it's magnificent glory, I don't what is.
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