The first class I took was in February of 1991. I think it was a Tuesday.
I was living in Santa Cruz, post college, in a group house where we mostly survived on pasta, beer, and cigarettes.
It was not my idea to go to an aerobics class, and I wasn’t looking for pain, suffering, or public humiliation at the time. But I was sort of a try-anything-once kind of gal and so when my German houseguest, Dortë, asked me if I wanted to go to something called “Jazzercise,” I said “Yeah, sure.”
Just a few blocks away, in church hall with hardwood floors and large pane windows, I found myself signing up for a class just as it was about to start. Dortë insisted we stand right up front, stealing the spots of two die-hard regulars. I vaguely remember her actually kicking the rolled-up mats out of the way, rejecting their spot-saving authority in a way that felt aggressively German, which she was. No one told her new people stand in the back, where their erratic flailing won’t be a distraction to others.
That’s how it began, me following along as best I could. Something of a fever dream, all that skipping, hopping, and chasseing. It was over so fast that I barely noticed that I worked out. I was so focused on doing it right, i.e. not looking ridiculous. I probably wouldn’t have gone back, except I got a handwritten postcard from Abbi that said, “Don’t be discouraged if you were sore after your first class or had a hard time following along. It gets easier!” So, I went back, signed up for a class pass, and started going to Jazzercise regularly.
Abbi Hartsell was the quintessential California girl — blond, tan, fit. She was all of about 5 foot 2, zero percent body fat. As an instructor, she was perfect — high energy, upbeat, technically flawless. I secretly wanted to be exactly like her. Because she faced the class, cueing by reversing her right and left, she made you feel like you were working out in a mirror. After a while you were no longer thinking about yourself, you were just lost in the moves, in the music.
It did get a lot easier. I picked up the steps and was able to keep up. Left, right, left-left, single-single-double, skip up, skip back, going the same direction as everybody else, not crashing into anyone. And no longer gasping for breath. I felt great (mostly after class ended).
I had actually started running a few months before I found Jazzercise which helped with my mental health and cut back on smoking. They say that if you run long enough, you get to the point where it stops feeling like torture and you start to love it. That never happened. Before Jazzercise, I didn’t know that working out could feel good.
Soon I lost the extra weight I had always carried… and resented. Never athletic or sporty, always trying and failing to take up any form of exercise, and terrible at dieting, it was the first time I ever felt good about my body. And good about myself. It was truly life changing.
I guess it’s not true that I was never athletic. I took ballet, seriously, until I was 11. But I didn’t consider that exercise. Same with bike riding, swimming, and skiing. My dad always encouraged us to be active and there were many years of doing exercise without realizing it was. It was just fun. I quit ballet right before I hit puberty, and after that, my body changed. I gained weight and got curvy. Completely normal and I hated it. It felt like my body betrayed me. From that point on I struggled with my weight and how I felt in my body. Jazzercise changed all that.
I don’t know what I wore to that first class, but soon I was buying all kinds of cute bike shorts and thong leotards in bright colors. And of course, high-top sneakers with thick scrunchie socks. Everything but the leg warmers. I felt so cool.
It didn’t take long to stop feeling self-conscious and to really love it. I learned that no one was paying attention to what I was doing. They were just focused on themselves. There were times that I felt silly. I wasn’t always willing to “Woo!” or to shimmy or smack my own butt, as it was choreographed. Or to march around and say hello to people I didn’t know. But I did get out of my comfort zone and laughed a lot.
And so, I fell into a very faithful habit of working out. I felt good. I had energy, I liked the way I looked, I liked how clothes looked on me, I ate better, and my mood was much more positive.
I didn’t know why Jazzercise worked so well for me, and why I went consistently, stuck with it, and got results. I think one reason was all I had to do was get there. Then all I had to do was follow along, do what Abbi did. Soon it just became a habit. It was just what I did.
Another reason was the format. A typical class included warm up, low intensity aerobics, building up to high intensity, then muscle toning on the floor, ending with cool down and stretching. That may not sound groundbreaking, but It meant it always felt doable, and you didn’t injure yourself.
It also worked because classes were at scheduled times, so unlike the gym where you could go anytime, it was harder to put it off. There were times I left work so I could get to class on time and then went back to work to finish up. I was committed.
And there was the fact that it never got boring. Jazzercise classes are made up of carefully arranged sets of routines, choreographed and set to music — in the 90s, Janet Jackson, Chakka Kahn, Luther Vandross, as well as some Country and plenty of House music. The teacher learned all the routines and built their classes using a standard formula, with an aerobic curve, a variety of steps, and a mix of musical styles. Abbi taught us the new routines, and we did the same class for a couple of weeks, then we’d get a new set with new routines (combined with some old favorites) so it always felt fresh and new. The more you went to class, the easier it got, both coordination-wise as well as aerobically. Even though Abbi did every move high impact and high intensity, she offered modifications and options, because she wanted you to feel successful.
Class formats changed over time. Shortly after I started taking classes, they introduced weight training with handheld weights, choreographed routines set to music like the regular aerobic routines. Later they added “Step,” and we all toted our purple and teal plastic steps to class. Next came “Circuit,” an early kind of high intensity interval training (HITT) designed to challenge you aerobically by alternating hard routines and easier recovery ones as well as incorporating weights and resistance tubes to build muscle.
In the early days I didn’t socialize that much with other students. I was still so shy and quiet. One time I saw a woman I knew through my boyfriend John. I wasn’t sure she remembered me until she came up to me after class and said, “Usually people I know say hello to me!” Her name was Joan, and we ended up becoming best friends, both in and out of Jazzercise. After a few years of being a student, Abbi offered me a job as class registrar. That involved helping set up class, checking people in, and signing up new people, in exchange for unlimited free classes. I got to know Abbi and the other women really well. I was Jazzercising almost every day now. And when I wasn’t doing that, I was going to my boyfriend’s gym or going mountain biking. I definitely crossed over into over-exercising. I became obsessed with losing weight and being fit, partly because I was also in a toxic relationship where I was told I looked good but could still lose a couple more pounds.
In my 20s I was very focused on how I looked. I think that vanity served me well because I always prioritized fitness. I worked out with women who were mostly in their 40s and 50s, some in their 60s and 70s. I look back now and think how great that was. The message being: work out, keep working out, don’t stop working out, and you will always be able to work out. That’s how you stay healthy. At some point it became so much more than being thin. I learned the value of heart health, muscle and bone strength, mental health, and most of all showing up for myself. All the while building a community of women friends.
I just loved it. I always loved to dance. All those years in ballet, learning about alignment and body positioning, tuning into the music and memorizing choreography. I can’t explain it. I think it does something to your brain. You become lost in movement, creativity, and you’re not thinking about anything else.
There was a time when I was in middle school in DC, maybe 12 years old, when I fantasized about being a cheerleader. At my DC public school, they weren’t perky blondes. These girls were mostly black girls; doing step dance mixed with cheerleading moves so complex it was awe inspiring. I wanted to do it so badly, but they were so intimidating. I never went to try outs. I never even told anyone I wanted to. Somehow Jazzercise made me feel like one of those cheerleaders.
In 2000, I moved away from California and my beloved Abbi. I looked up where classes were in the New Jersey town I was moving to and literally picked my apartment and job based on it. I still made sure I got it to 3 to 4 classes a week. Later I moved to Pennsylvania and went to some classes where the instructor that was not good. I put up with it for a while until one day I thought, “I could do better than this!” That was when I decided to become an instructor.
I got certified to teach Jazzercise in May of 2004 and started my own franchise. I continued to work as a freelance graphic designer, luckily, since it was hard to support yourself as an aerobics instructor. I persevered in spite of the countless hours it took to prepare for class and to market myself, the high overhead to run the business, as well as my intense stage fright. I danced on a stage, with a mic. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.
It was so incredibly rewarding and I learned so much. And I loved my students. One time my cousin tried to encourage me by saying I had probably the most important job there was: helping people stay healthy. This was from someone who worked at the State Department on human rights issues. So, I stuck with it. I added classes. I hired subs. At one point I was teaching 13 classes a week. I would probably still be doing it today, but life had other plans. In 2007, I got pregnant with twins. I couldn’t workout let alone teach. I didn’t have enough people to cover my classes and so I made the difficult decision to close the business.
It was worth it. We ended up having healthy girl/boy twins. They told me I couldn’t workout or even drive a car for six weeks after I had my C-section. As soon as I was cleared, I packed them up and went to a Jazzercise class, 30 minutes away. One with babysitting. And just like that I was back to going all the time. The other instructors kept asking me when I was going to start teaching again. I’d smile and say, “I’m good.”
My kids grew up. I kept going. Sometimes my daughter would take class too. I kept going. The pandemic happened. I kept going, online. I really didn’t mind doing online Jazzercise, or “Jazzercise On Demand (JOD).” I think I went more. I mean, I was pretty fit during Covid. I’ve been back in person a couple of times since.
I’ve tried gyms. I’ve tried running, many times. I’ve done Zumba and kickboxing and spin. Nothing is better than Jazzercise. I always come back to it. I did a Spartan Race one time. My training was simply going to my usual amount of Jazzercise classes.
It works.
