Pattie Cinelli

That burst of lime, hot pink and orange neon blurry in your field of vision as you drive around the Hill is not an early morning half-awake illusion or even the remnants of one too many gummies the night before. You are witnessing a group of adult women who gather every Friday morning at 6:30 to prance around Lincoln Park, donning 90s neon garb and blasting a 90s music playlist that all can dance, sing and exercise to for one glorious hour each week.

The past few months I’ve been holed up in an exercise room with my rowing machine, Bosu and free weights trying to stay in shape. This winter’s been a brutal one and I’m excited for temperatures that will allow me to return to the beach, the trails and the courts to exercise outside. A few spring days have popped up that got me and a lot of others out pounding the pavement. How I love the sweet smells of soft dirt disturbed by hyacinths and daffodils peeking out of the ground.

The past few months I’ve been holed up in an exercise room with my rowing machine, Bosu and free weights trying to stay in shape. This winter’s been a brutal one and I’m excited for temperatures that will allow me to return to the beach, the trails and the courts to exercise outside. A few spring days have popped up that got me and a lot of others out pounding the pavement. How I love the sweet smells of soft dirt disturbed by hyacinths and daffodils peeking out of the ground.