Lucy Reflects

I recently packed on the “twenty forty,” a term I coined which refers to the anomaly where you change absolutely nothing about your diet or lifestyle, but at almost age 40, you suddenly look like you’re six- months pregnant.

I’m not going to lie, I’ve been lucky to have a forgiving metabolism … until now. But this was the year I kissed my waistline good bye. (God forbid, I gain it in places where I need it, but I digress …)

I noticed I was gaining some extra weight, but it wasn’t until my family doctor brought it to my attention that made it more real (and a congratulations from someone on expecting another child). As my doctor danced around a tactful way to tell me, he folded his arms, stretched his legs out, looked at me and said carefully, “maybe it’s time to start watching what you eat and exercise.”

So I did what most people would do: I set completely irrational expectations for myself. I recalled seeing a gentleman on the internet helping folks dance their way to a beach body. He was sexy, confident, a smooth talker and made dropping extra pounds look like cinch, all while learning how to kill it on the dance floor.

He was Shaun T. and he was going to change my life.

“If you can walk you can dance!” Shaun T. promises during the first video.

“I sure can!” I respond out loud as I begin pushing furniture and kicking piles of unfolded laundry and toys out of my way to create an at-home dance floor (the fact that this alone made me exhausted should have been my first sign that I wasn’t ready for Shaun T.). I bust out a little running man and do some fist pumps to get myself stoked. I’m in my favorite Old Navy work-out gear (which up until now were just pajamas) and I am ready to kick it Shaun T.-style. The pounds were going to melt off as quickly as they appeared and I was going to become a dancer worthy of touring with the likes of J-Lo.

I loosen up with the folks on the tape as I prepare to ‘cize it up.

“Alriggght,” Shaun T. looks at me with those dreamy eyes, muscular arms that go on for days and bountiful six-pack. “Side to side, take it out. Row the boat, nice and low. Drive the car. C’mon y’all!”

What I look like in my mind: Shaun T.’s back-up dancers.

What I actually look like: a sweaty tube man outside of a Verizon store thrashing around during high winds.

“Side to side. Work it out, feel the beat. Step it to the high low, cha cha, left right side,” Shaun’s voice follows the beat as I cha cha into a wall.

“Imma add some arms, take it up, keep stepping, go tempo, double the rhythm. Four, three, two one … go tempo. C’mon push. You got it. Box step, left out, baseball move, out and in, out and in, open your chest, close your chest.”

All this was assumed to happen in about four seconds, but all I managed to do up was look like a blind folded toddler swinging at a piñata – one filled with peanut butter cups, Slim Jims and cute tiny bottles of wine.

Shaun T. tells me these are moves we do every single day. If that’s the case, I’m barreling through the grocery store like a three-legged donkey kicking over every single display along the way, stopping briefly and gathering enough control to realize I need a snack. Then it’s back to jolting around like a ravenous wild boar hunting for its last meal (ie: a cream-filled donut) while fending off predators (ie: my kids).

So I came up with a better (albeit temporary idea) - watch Shaun T. ‘cize it up, while I relax in my Old Navy pajamas, eat Slim Jims, drink wine and shop on Amazon for clothes with an elastic waist band.

We'd love to hear from you, is Shaun T. dreamy?!? Ummm ... yes!