PORT ANGELES — Sounds like there’s a party going on, what with the chatter and quick bursts of laughter. It’s just an odd place and time: 5:55 a.m., in a bright room at Fitness West on Lincoln Street.
Go inside, though, and it’s clear that this is one happening scene, even if the only beverage is bottled water.
The hostess, the woman who makes this pre-dawn dance club happen, is Maureen “Moe” Pfaff.
She gets her Zumba classes started at 6 weekday mornings in Port Angeles, and at the relatively late hour of 8 a.m. on Saturdays. And then, fully warmed up, she zips over to Sequim to get another class going there.
Zumba is a class that has hit the group-fitness ball out of the park — around the world.
Developed by Colombian-American Alberto “Beto” Perez about 11 years back, it turns salsa, merengue, cumbia, reggaeton and samba moves into a workout that just about anybody, dancer or not, can learn.
Pfaff explains it fast and easy.
“We sneak a lot of fitness in,” she says. “We just hide it behind a lot of hip-shaking.”
Her classes are a hit, even at their early hour, and Pfaff heaps on the positive reinforcement, praising the “Zumbadoras,” affirming that “it’s never too early to shake it.”
Before two years ago, Pfaff, 39, had never heard the word Zumba. She was searching for two things: a fitness routine she could stick with and a break from stress she was feeling at work. She took her first Zumba class in May 2008.
“Oh my gosh, I’ve found my home,” was her first thought.
By August, she was in a training workshop, and come September 2008 she was leading rooms full of women, and a few brave men, through her growing repertoire of Zumba songs. They’re all over the menu, from Celia Cruz to Michael Franti and from Lady Gaga to Tina Turner.
Since she began teaching, Pfaff has added more than 50 songs, each with their own simple choreography, to her Zumba playlist. She teaches at both Fitness West and at Sequim Gym now, and has two trademarks: the expression of pure joy that takes over her face when she starts class, and her penchant for laughing at herself after a misstep.
But there are three other sides to Pfaff. After teaching a couple of early-morning Zumba classes, she turns into the chief financial officer at Olympic Peninsula Title Co. And before this, she was a Smith Barney stockbroker.
“There are jobs that feed our bodies and jobs that feed our souls,” Pfaff has been known to say.
Can Zumba really feed the soul? That’s up to the individual. The brand-name fitness craze has, however, spread to 107 countries, with 100,000 instructors certified.
Pfaff has Zumba-loving sisters in Port Angeles, Sequim and Port Townsend, teaching classes at venues from the YMCA to the Madrona Mind-Body Institute at Fort Worden State Park.
For Pfaff, this format is part of a fitness equation. In addition to her five weekly Zumba classes, she also teaches yoga and Pilates, practices that emphasize core strength, deep breathing and challenging the body.
And just as the music is different, Pfaff’s yoga voice is wholly unlike her Zumba voice. While the latter is splashed with whoops and cues to “Salsa,” her yoga tone is a soothing one. In both personae, however, Pfaff is more guide than taskmistress.
“I have experienced such a transformation through both of these practices that I feel driven to share them with others,” she said. In yoga, “I can quiet my mind and bring my awareness to truly being in the moment.”
That, Pfaff said, translates into easier handling of stress in daily life. When you’re in a stressful situation, she reminds her students, remember how yoga breathing calms you.
As for Zumba, “it had been years since I had danced, and I really think I’d forgotten how much I enjoy it,” Pfaff said. “Zumba is perfect for those who don’t want to go out to clubs or bars necessarily, but love to dance.”
And Pfaff, who’s been married to her non-dancing husband, Jason, for 15 years, added it’s also a solution for people whose spouses aren’t inclined toward salsa or samba.
“I’ve lost over 30 pounds doing Zumba,” she added, “and the endorphin release I experience from a class lasts for hours and elevates my mood all day.”
Not surprisingly, Pfaff has a musical background, though not in the popular genre.
At Port Angeles High School, she played tuba in the marching band; she is also an accomplished cellist who performed for more than 20 seasons with the Port Angeles Symphony Orchestra. These days she plays chamber music with friends — and translates an old counting technique for her Zumba classes.
When playing classical music on the cello, tapping the foot was verboten. So to keep time, she’d nod her head. Now that’s one of the nonverbal cues she gives when showing her Zumba students a fresh rhythm.
Every body can tap into that inner rhythm, Pfaff believes. “We have our heartbeat, our circadian rhythms. We’re rhythmic creatures,” naturally able to join in with a roomful of people moving to a beat.
And in Zumba, it doesn’t matter if you’re not matchy-matchy with your neighbor.
“We’re not a dance team,” Pfaff often says. Instead, Zumba teachers affirm that variety is the spice of life, dance and body type.
One of Pfaff’s Sequim students, for example, is an 84-year-old woman who dances with gusto and grace. “She doesn’t look like the person next to her; she doesn’t look like me,” and that’s altogether good.
Pfaff has also encouraged two women in her Port Angeles classes to become certified Zumba instructors. Julie Myers, a mortgage lender, and Charlea Johnson, the Red Lion Hotel’s catering manager, began leading classes this month at Fitness West. The pair drew a roomful to their first class, even though it started at 5:30 a.m. last Wednesday.
“This is about being at your level, while breaking down those boundaries about what you think you can and can’t do,” said Johnson, who’s known for shouting “Ay, Mama!” at opportune moments during class.
“And Moe is always smiling, always encouraging,” added Myers. Even if Pfaff is a long-legged, auburn-haired knockout, “people aren’t intimidated by her.”
Pfaff often tells her students that she’s no trained dancer and that it took many workshops and hours of practice at home — and OK, in the car — for her to get her samba legs.
Then again, she did take ballet lessons as a tot.
“But I was kicked out,” she adds, “for talking.”
