The Sounds of Zumba, Part Four

By Jill McKellan

You could hear the deep sigh echo through the entire house when Ava stepped on that scale, ready to find out the numbers that could only be revealed.  It was a courageous act by Ava’s standards and she had no idea what to expect.

The scale that was in front of Ava wasn’t your average scale.  It told you your body’s age, body fat, muscle percentage, good fat levels, body mass index, and a few other things.  Ava knew that she wouldn’t be particularly delighted with any of the numbers; however she had no clue that she’d react the way she did.

Quinn read off the numbers and looked through the corner of his eyes, ready to do what he must to help Ava with her reaction, which he definitely knew would not be happy and lighthearted.  “Are you okay?”

“No,” Ava said.  She couldn’t stop it from happening; before she knew it, tears were streaming down her face and her bottom lip was quivering, reminding her of how playing cards used to look on her bicycle spokes as she went as fast as she could down the road.

“It’s okay.  Now we know and I’ll help you do whatever you want.  It’s all up to you.”

Ava looked at Quinn, completely thankful for him, and dove in for a big hug.  “At least your arms still fit around me.”  Yes, she knew that was dramatic, but she said it anyways.  “I cannot believe my body age.  That makes me want to puke.”

“That is a shocking number, isn’t it?  Everybody’s been shocked by it,” Quinn said.

“Well, I am not going to be content being physically 16 years older than I actually am.  That’s a load of crap,” Ava said.  Now she was ticked off and her arms were crossed and there was some fire in her eyes.

That day, Ava devoted a ton of time to creating a new work-out schedule that added an additional 8 minutes a day for Camp90X and a few other things.  She was obsesses with taking care of business and stopping the madness.  She lovingly termed her agenda, “The Dechunkification Process”.  The game was on and Ava wasn’t about to lose.

As with all major changes, you have to do them for yourself, but your family also goes along for the ride, whether they like it or not.  Gracie and Quinn didn’t mind.  Ava had no problem adjusting what she ate and did while feeding them a grand meal that didn’t have to be measured and proportioned.  Actually, it didn’t look all too different from what she usually ate for supper.  The big changes came in other forms.

That night, after her perfectly proportioned meal, Ava did her first Camp90X.  She huffed, puffed, and panted without giving up.  Sweat was pouring down her face and she was amazed that eight minutes could do all that, but it did.

The next week was spent continuing her Zumba, doing Camp90X, and throwing in some push-ups.  Ava couldn’t wait to do her weigh-in; which she’d designated for Friday’s.  Why Friday?  It was the end of the week and if Ava didn’t reach her goals for the week, the weekends would not be a time to splurge a bit.

Friday morning came all too quickly that week.  Ava made sure she didn’t eat or drink a single thing before her weigh in.  Why not give yourself all the help you can to like what you see?  She lay in bed, wide awake, for about an hour, waiting for Quinn to wake up.  He barely had a chance to stretch and she was urging him to get going for the big weigh-in.

“Are you ready, hon?” Ava asked.

“I think so,” Quinn replied.  He smiled.  “Okay, now are you ready?”

“I am,” Ava said.  She breathed in, waiting to hear the efforts of her first week of super hard work.

“You’re one year younger today.  Congratulations!”

Ava smiled and jumped up.  “Yahoo!  Now it’s time to be two years younger next week.”

The spark was still going strong inside Ava.  She was going to do it!