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Last August, I had foot surgery after years of pain being on my feet too long and difficulty finding shoes that fit well.  I had been putting it off because the recovery was long.  Four whole weeks without being able to walk on it.  And then another two weeks with that foot in a boot.  That equaled six weeks of not driving!  The company I worked for was understanding and accommodating, family and friends were great and supportive.  I did almost three months of physical therapy.  In February, I was all clear to resume normal activity.  My foot and leg were weak - it was crazy how fast all those muscle atrophy when you don't use them for four weeks.  I found out that my friend, Kim, was teaching an adult ballet class.  I've taken ballet before (when I was 5) and I'm graceful (NOT!), so piece of cake!  But seriously, it would be great to help with my balance and build up the muscles in my leg and foot.  The second week of ballet, I showed up early.  Ladies were rocking out with drumsticks and loud music - what in the world was this??

It was Pound.  The Rockout Workout.  It's exercise disguised as fun with drumsticks.

When I was 10, my Dad took me to go see the movie Some Kind of Wonderful.  Check it out here.  If you are my age or older, please tell me you've seen it.  It's classic.  I identified with the one of the characters, Watts.  She was a tomboy, she was cool, and she didn't care what people thought of her - and she played the drums.  I so wanted to be her.

And although I accuse Brian of hoarding and hanging onto things for too long, I hold the record in our house of having something the longest.  I have a Some Kind of Wonderful t-shirt.  It's 28 years old.  I went through boxes in the basement about three months ago and found my childhood box.  This t-shirt was in the box.  I held it up.  No holes, looks like it could still fit? Yes, I'll rescue it from the box, wash it and start enjoying it!

Okay, back to Pound.  The next week I attended my first Pound class.  All of my stress, all of my frustration, and pent up energy dissipated through those neon green sticks.  Yes, my thighs were sore and I could barely walk the next day, but there was something about the energy in the music, the enthusiasm of the people in the room - all hitting their sticks together to the beat all at the same time - that just made me feel better.  I was extremely clumsy and sore at first, but every class I was more coordinated (oh, we've done this song before, I kinda remember how it goes) and less sore.  After about a month, my friend Kim mentioned that she could tell how much I liked it and suggested that I look into being certified to teach Pound.  I thought she was joking, so I laughed. Out loud!  No way, I could never do something like that... but it stuck with me for a few days. And I thought, well, it couldn't hurt to look into it.  How many times have I talked my way out of something because I didn't think I could do it?  Too many to recount, I'm certain.

There was a certification class in July in Indianapolis.  Not too far.  I could probably swing it.  Kim mentioned it again the next week.  So laughing just as hard as the first time, I told her that I actually was thinking about it.  She threw her arms around me and told me that I would love it and that I would be great at it and she would help me.  We could teach together and do larger events and put our gifts and talents together to take over the world!  As I was thinking about it, I got an email from the Pound Girls about another certification class being held in Chicago.  Okay, now there was no excuse. It was meant to be!

Since then I've seen amazing changes in my body, I'm a little stronger and a little leaner (boy, I wish it could make me a little taller!).  As of July 19, I'm officially certified to teach Pound.  About a week ago, we found out that Kim is moving.  It is wonderful for her and her family, so I am beyond happy for her.  But what started out as a sidekick gig is turning into something else.  Something that will force me out of my comfort zone, something that will require self-confidence, something that will really stretch me.

Kim and me - photo by the awesome Jenna Hopphan

This is Kim.  She is like a little stick of dynamite.  She is tiny, but she is packed with encouragement, a positive attitude and so much faith.  It's hard to not just smile when you see her.  She is such a great friend - and she will be missed.

These neon green sticks are like therapy.  It's a release.  It's impossible to hang on to tension, anger, frustration or stress while you are in class.  You can't help but let it go. (Thank you Elsa for getting that song stuck in my head)