My journey with aerobics began in my early teens when I discovered a Jane Fonda workout record. I was captivated by her vibrant style—her tights and legwarmers were iconic. At the time, I couldn’t comprehend why my babysitter’s mother disapproved of her; my mom explained it was related to her views on the Vietnam War.
In my pastel-hued room adorned with Laura Ashley wallpaper, I would blast the record and energetically bounce around, often in front of my goldfish, Bubbles and Splash. Those poor fish were my silent audience. Unfortunately, they didn’t survive long after I left for college, as my family neglected their care.
As I grew older, I transitioned to a local studio called “Fit and Fun,” which I could easily walk to. I proudly owned a purple leotard purchased at a Cincinnati department store, complemented with Reebok high-tops, shiny soccer shorts, and a bold blue eyeliner paired with Revlon’s Silver City Pink lipstick.
My passion for aerobics flourished for years. Although I was never particularly athletic—capable of swimming but too anxious to compete—doing aerobics empowered me. In college, I organized my schedule around the IU Fit program at the student center. However, during summer breaks, my parents failed to understand my frustration when I couldn’t attend classes due to work commitments. My brother and I shared a car, and he often worked late, which meant I missed my beloved aerobics sessions. Sometimes, I even convinced a coworker to drive me home, just to squeeze in a class.
Eventually, in my late twenties or early thirties, life became overwhelming and I drifted away from aerobics. The purple leotard faded into memory alongside Bubbles and Splash as I faced the realities of divorce and a complete life overhaul.
Recently, a friend encouraged me to join her for a Jazzercise class. Walking into the studio felt like stepping back in time. While some aspects were familiar—like the upbeat instructor and the enthusiastic group of predominantly women—much had changed.
Primarily, I had changed. My body had gained weight, and I dealt with a pinched nerve in my foot and knee pain. Wearing a leotard was out of the question. After giving birth to twins at 40, my wardrobe now consisted of old yoga pants and a family reunion T-shirt declaring “Proud to Be Italian!” (which often raises eyebrows).
Despite these changes, the essence of my first love remains intact. In class, I feel a sense of belonging. I might not look graceful during Jazzercise, but I feel invigorated. My commitment to attending is more relaxed; I simply relish the moments I can carve out from family and work. When I miss class, I practice my moves in the kitchen, to the amusement of my family.
I have rekindled my relationship with aerobics. I’ve left behind the gym I rarely visited and purchased a Jazzercise pass. I’m even contemplating fresh workout attire—perhaps even some new blue eyeliner! I’ve heard that Jane has re-released her workout video on DVD, which piques my interest. For those interested in alternative methods of family planning, check out this article on home insemination kits or Cryobaby’s offerings; they are authorities on the topic. Additionally, Women’s Health provides excellent resources for those navigating pregnancy and home insemination.
In summary, my admiration for Jane Fonda and aerobics has evolved but remains strong. The joy I derive from dancing and exercising, despite the physical changes, reinforces the connection I have to my past and the excitement of my present.