In between Zumba classes I like to practice in my basement. We have a large rec room and Bry showed me how to disassemble the ping pong table and fold it up to make a wide open space. The ping pong table actually serves as a wall and a reminder to a certain boy to stay out of his mommy's way when dancing. Can't you just picture that ER visit?
Hypothetical conversation with ER resident doctor...
Doctor: How did your son get this large bruise on his head?
Me: He was hit by some merengue arms doctor. Can you help him?
Doctor: We'll run some tests. How did he hurt his toe?
Me: It was stepped on by some cha cha heels.
Doctor: I'll get a splint.
Anyway...it's a nice space (even if it is carpeted) and the truth is, most of the time I use it after the boys are in bed. I'll go down there around 8pm with the idea of working out for hour. Getting done around 9pm, I can get a shower and it's only 9:30pm. That's plenty of evening left for me and Bry to check out what's on our DVR. Somehow though, it rarely seems to work that way. The best laid plans of the Zumbamommy and all that... I call it the Zumba fog (Zog?). Have you ever driven your car through a thick fog? I have and when you can't see anything in the distance, any of the usual landmarks, it feels a little like you're just driving forever in the same place. A Zumba fog is the same. I'll go down in the basement to dance, and come back up to find that it's dark outside.
Me: What time is it?
Bry: After 10:30pm
Me: Ack! How long was I down there?
Bry: About 2.5 hours...
Two and a half hours? Most Zumbathon events are two. When I'm stuck in the Zumba fog without the landmark of Jae or Rae calling time on the class and getting us cooled off, my practice sessions just go on...and on. There are just too many fun things to do. Or, if there's one that's giving me trouble that I want to work on, I just restart the song again and again (and again). Basically, what eventually stops me is my body going, "Hey you! Have you checked in with your calf muscles lately?". Huh, yeah...they're pretty sore now that I think about it. Guess it's time to stop and get that shower.
Does this happen every night? Definitely not. I'd probably burn myself out in under a year. In a given week, I'll go to class once, practice twice and take the other four nights off to rest. I figure having rest days in between helps balance out the Zoggy nights. I know what you're thinking, "Why doesn't she just set a timer for 60 minutes?" I've more or less given up trying to keep the time, but if there was ever a night when I needed to make sure to finish by a certain time, I would set a timer. If there ever comes a time when I decide to practice more often than I do, I would always set a timer so that I -don't- burn myself out. Sometimes though, when I'm in the Zog, it feels kind of good. Sometimes? Kind of? Okay, okay... It just feels good.
A couple nights ago, I was working on the same one song for quite
some time (around 45 minutes as I later discovered), attempting to get all
the little nuances down. The song finished for the umpteenth time and I
went over to my laptop with the intention of hitting play one more time,
but then I noticed something. My heart rate.
Thumpthumpthumpthumpthump!! Okay...time to bring that down some. I did four different songs that I didn't have to think as hard about and took it nice and easy. I also drank some more water. I suppose I could have stopped there, but I felt like I would be leaving that first song "unfinished" somehow. It actually only took another 20 minutes before I felt like I had it and on that note I decided to finish off with two other songs just to cool down slowly. When it comes to things like this, I'm a like a junkyard doberman with a bone. Try to take that bone away and just see what happens.
Here's where I'd usually offer my best advice, something like: "Don't stay in a Zumba fog too long." or "Don't go into the Zog too many days in a week." You get the idea, and I suppose those are good suggestions. But here's the thing, does anyone out there even deal with this issue aside from me, the crazy Zumba-freak? Wait, I've got one! Wear a heart rate monitor.