NIA: Neat, but not for me

Often willing to try new things, I was interested enough when my wife read the description of a new class at the Brambelton Center put on by Parks and Rec. NIA, she read, stands for Non-Impact Aerobics and is a mix of yoga, dance, and martial arts. While I dance the same or less than your average guy in his 30s (which means not too much), the yoga and martial arts intrigued me.

Sure, I figured it would prove a little female-heavy, based on the description. But when I showed up at the Brambelton Center Monday night, I discovered I was the ONLY dude in the mix, not to mention the youngest.

Minutes later, while flapping my arms around like a drunken monkey, listening to the latest CD from Rainforest Cafe, I understood the demographic perfectly. I belonged there about as much as I belong in the YWCA or the WNBA.

I hung in there for about half an hour, pulling moves like "clean the cobwebs", "catch the ball", and "carry the pale" with a reservation not lost on the instructor. Quickly, she came after me to shoo me from my back corner of the room, and managed to coral me right out the door and into the Teen Center. Much more comfortable there.

I waited for my wife on the other side of the wall, still hearing the shouts and ululations and feeling immensely thankful I wasn't the one expected to make them.

My wife liked it, and did really well, despite perpetually sneaking glances my way to make sure I hadn't chewed my wrist open or faked a heart attack to get out of there.

After class, a woman dabbing herself with a towel said: "You're a brave man." I told her I didn't feel too brave, having left in the middle of it. "Men try it every now and then," she said. "None have ever made it through a whole class."

Feeling a little better about ranking completely average among my intrepid brethren who've attempted NIA, I went home feeling only a little sillier than when I'd gotten there.