Richard Simmons is certifiably insane. And I love him.
I met him a little over a year ago at the first “SWEAT” class I attended. Some friends and I discovered that he had a studio in Beverly Hills where he teaches aerobics classes three times a week. My reaction was skeptical: the manic exercise
queen king of the 80s is still at it? Turns out: very much so, and still rocking his tiny shorts and ridiculous hair. So, for the novelty of it, I went.
Here is what you can expect when you meet Richard Simmons: a hug, a kiss, a compliment, a teasing insult, and a couple bars of a Broadway show tune. And the kind of magical knowledge that, even though you’ve only just met, Richard Simmons genuinely cares about you. Just because you are a human being, he sincerely wants to know how you are and if he can help you.
That first class was nuts. I don’t know how many calories are burned by smiling for an hour straight and singing along while you do shoulder-rolls, but it was awesome. I’d never had so much fun working out, or had an hour of cardio exercise go by more quickly.
Since then, I’ve attended maybe 30 classes at Slimmons. I live for the “motivational” stuff he yells at us:
- “I wanna lick your neck right now!” (and, to wit, he has actually done this to some of us)
- “GET LOWER! Pretend like there’s a Milano cookie on the floor.”
- “Don’t clink your weights together! I swear to God, if you don’t control them I will close these doors and we’ll play Anne Frank. I’m serious.”
- “You fed it, you lift it!”
- “Bring your knees up higher, this is BULLSHIT.”
I’d tell you more about his antics, but words don’t really do his particular brand of craziness justice. I’ll leave you with a video from a class just before Easter, where my friends and I dressed up like Playboy bunnies:
If you ever get the chance, go work out with Richard Simmons. The crazy, wonderful little man will not disappoint – I promise.