
He walks in like he owns the place — this is his kingdom, his domain.
This is his opportunity to give back.
A shuffle of feet.
“How’s everyone doing?” the small, well-muscled man yells through a microphone attached to his right ear.
The pulse of the music intensifies as the class starts, reverberating through the wooden floorboards of the room. The upbeat, techno-salsa sounds can be felt with one touch to the floor, thudding along rhythmically like a heartbeat. Three fans spin overhead, protruding slightly from the ceiling, providing little relief to the mass of people stuffed into the humid gym.
The class begins with a combination of kicks and punches. In no time, beads of sweat line people’s foreheads and stain the backs of shirts.
Marco Zamora, 37, is the Lincoln Family Downtown YMCA’s only kickboxing instructor. His class runs Mondays and Wednesdays from 5:30 to 6:30 p.m. and is almost always full with 30 to 40 people attending.
Zamora said that his class is so packed because kickboxing — a mix of boxing, martial arts and aerobics — is a total-body workout and can help people both physically and mentally. Students can easily burn 350 to 450 calories during one his classes, Zamora claims.
“Push it!” he shouts, his command reinvigorating the students as they begin the moves with a renewed fervor.
Standing about 5-foot-4 in black gym shorts and an Adidas muscle tank with a conventional pair of sneakers, Zamora moves smoothly, completely focused. His movements grow faster and more complex as the song builds.
He executes the choreography with a perfect form — each move made with precision and ease. He alternates between standing in front of the class and walking around to see how his students are doing.
Zamora said his class can help with endurance, muscle conditioning, burning fat and strengthening the core. He also said that working out has now become a popular trend, making classes like his necessary to add a new twist to a workout regime.
Zamora first started teaching kickboxing six years ago after taking classes at a YMCA in Yuma. Graduate school brought him to Phoenix; he attended ASU to receive his master’s degree in social work and became a licensed social worker. He currently works for the City of Phoenix’s Social Services Department, balancing a full-time job while teaching classes at several gyms on weeknights.
“I like working with people,” he said. “When you see a lot of the things I do in my profession, you need something to take your mind off of things. The teaching helps me get away from my job.”
Through the grueling hour, Zamora maintains his focus. He never stops moving, never loses energy.
Fifteen minutes into the class, when his students have started to spill sweat, he remains composed.
“How’s everyone doing?” Zamara asks again.
Despite being tired and hot, the class responds. Loud shrieks, claps and yells answer his question.
Zamara teaches the class a new combination of kicks and punches. He typically varies the choreography, but this time the combination of moves is special — completely new.
He carefully shows the class each move and, after several examples, he asks the students to join him.
He begins the combination again, counting along to the beats of the loud music.
“Everybody counts! Nobody’s special here!” he yells. “Harder guys, come on! Pick it up! I can’t hear you!”
Pause. The echo of feet fades into the background. The pounding of music has, for a moment, ceased.
A young woman steps outside the sweltering room. She casually leans against the wall, taking even breaths, looking a little tired. This is her second time coming to class.
“It’s fun,” said Mariama Bah, a junior social-work major. “He’s so energetic, the way he’s patient and the way he helps you keeps me going. I’m getting a workout.”
Bah said she plans on making his class a routine because she’s already seen results – firmer legs and biceps.
She lingers outside the class, catching her breath.
But inside, the class is picking up in pace and intensity. They stay focused until they’ve mastered the new moves, counting along with Zamora. His encouragement seems to have reminded them why they are here.
“I want to leave people inspired to come back,” Zamora said before the class started. “I want to let them know they can do this. (But) my main goal is to keep people active.”
Zamara is doing just that. His intensity and no-nonsense attitude coupled with his patience and encouragement brings people back to his class.
Celia Philip, a 42-year-old caregiver, has already made Zamora’s class a part of her workout routine simply because she loves his class. She added that if Zamora did not teach the kickboxing class, she would not attend it.
“He’s a good teacher, he makes me sweat,” Philip said after class, dabbing off sweat with a towel. “He’s animated, he’s enthusiastic all the time and he connects you to the class.”
Philip excitedly talks and gestures, explaining what is so special about his class, why she keeps coming back and what she has gotten from the experience. At moments, she finds it difficult to articulate perfectly what she means.
Like a conductor commanding his symphony, the art behind Zamora’s kickboxing class cannot be explained or fully understood.
Unless you start to play along.
Contact the reporter at dmillar@asu.edu


