I love aerobics. I won't lie. I will jumping-jack and knee-raise and grapevine the everloving jujubes out of some high-energy aerobics. But I realize now that, maybe I don't really love aerobics. I don't think I love them as much as these people up in that video. BECAUSE THEY ARE OVER THE MOON BOUNCING ACROSS THE GALAXY BANANAS FOR IT.
They are like me-on-Mardi-Gras-morning-in-a-bouncy-cloud-of-love GAGA for that ish, all in their fresh white kicks and patriotic leotards, testing the evergreen composure of Alan Thicke. You can tell it puts them, for a few precious, effervescent minutes, on a higher plane of existence. And I'm left feeling...semi-awed? Entranced? Bemused, definitely. Competitive aerobics! Who knew?!
I'm ambivalent. Conflicted. Because I love aerobics, but I don't think I want to be them. Do what they do. I prefer to think of aerobics as calorie-burning, structured, dance-like conditioning to help fight the bloaty effects of weekend-long drinking and complicated, boring food issues. But I never even considered aerobics as a competitive end unto itself.
It's like synchronized swimming out of water, no?
Apparently, these champtionships are is still around across the globe, just not nationally televised, at least in America (shame). But overall, competitive aerobicizing seems to be another bygone mania of the '80s. And maybe that's why I feel a little uncomfortable with this new world I've discovered. Maybe, if it were 1986 and I wasn't 3 years old, I would be one of them. Actually, now that I think about it, I would definitely be one of them.
Wow. OK. I'm gonna let that sink in while I continue to watch these videos. There are many.
Because it's Halloweeny time, duh.