"Prancercise," Or Weight Loss, Secretariat-Style

Like a lot of people, I belong to a gym. I joined the gym in order to engage in what most people would call “getting fit,” but apparently that requires showing up and then actually doing something once I’m there. That’s really the key to the whole fitness thing, it seems.

I had tried running, which resulted in shin splints and the discovery that the support claims for most sports bras are a big, fat LIE. I had tried martial arts, which resulted in a black belt and the hard-earned knowledge that what goes up must come down, usually on my behind. I had even tried Zumba, which, if done correctly, can result in an entire room full of adults lurching around, off beat, to Latin music and looking to anyone who passed by like they were experiencing a moderately strong earthquake.

But I had finally run out of ways to hurt myself, so I went in search of an exercise program not for the weekend warrior, but for the weekend coward, which is definitely more my speed. And there are those of you out there who are like me: You’ve put down your money for a gym membership and, from the comfort of your Barcalounger, you expect results, darn it, because this is America. In the Land of the Free, throwing money at a problem is practically one of our civil rights.

Well, call me a slothful patriot with love handles galore if you like, but I am also an agent of change. Lay down your Shake Weights; I bring you Prancercise®.

Prancercise® caused a sensation on YouTube this year after Joanna Rohrback, the creator of the program, posted it in late 2012. If you hadn’t gathered from the name, it consists of prancing along, like a horse, to music. Outside, where people can see you — and I believe this is important enough to bear repeating — prancing. It looks like this, and was done by the extremely virile Steve Harvey in front of an entire studio audience of real, live people at his talk show:

The theory behind Prancercise® is sound enough: light aerobic exercise, with a spunky “get out into nature and explain to the arresting officer that you are not creating a disturbance just because you happen to be galloping through a park and waving your arms” attitude. According to Ms. Rohrback, Prancercise®, which is dubbed a “fitness revolution” on her website, is meant to liberate people like me from the bonds of having to slog to the gym and spend most of my precious workout time signing waivers that say that I am both legally and medically responsible if I drop the kettlebell on the trainer’s foot again. With Prancercise®, however, you just strap on those 1-pound ankle weights, blast your favorite tunes, gallop along, and wave your forelegs — sorry, your arms — in the air like you just don’t care.

Despite my reservations about prancing in public, I decided to look further into this fitness revolution. Since I had already paid for my gym membership, I hit upon the idea of approaching the management about starting a Prancercise® program, perhaps even as an adjunct program for the dedicated weightlifters, a special race of people who, between gymming and tanning, don’t seem to get out a whole lot. Ms. Rohrback was skeptical that it would work when I spoke to her by phone, saying “The gyms are threatened by [Prancercise®]. If everyone…got outside to work out, they would go out of business.” (I have to admit, she has a point there.) The gym’s management was surprisingly nice about the idea, even as they were escorting me to the door, but I was left with the distinct feeling that they were not interested.

I see this as being extremely shortsighted, from a business standpoint. They could be capitalizing on Ms. Rohrback’s spiritual revolution as well. The spiritual side of Prancercise® is detailed in a book sold on the website that features her on the cover, prancing next to a wild stallion, which may or may not be one of the trainers. There is even a thoughtful legal disclaimer on the site that advises beginners like myself not to prance next to a wild horse for fear of injury, somewhere after the page with the photo of Isadora Duncan and, for some reason, Mahatma Gandhi, that claims that her book “explores the mind-set of innovative artists who changed the climate of the discipline they indulged in…I compare myself and my aerobics to them in this book.”

There’s even a recommended diet, which, not surprisingly, Ms. Rohrback says is not unlike a horse’s, and features all of the fresh fruits, vegetables and essential fatty acids that will ensure a glossy coat a tight barrelspectacular stifles robust health.

So farewell, Zumba; so long Thigh Master. I’m off to the park, as soon as I can strap this saddle on.