Why has it taken me this long to discover Zumba?
I just got back from wiggling and shaking my way through a Zumba class. Loved it. It’s a little bit Shakira, a bit Beyonce with Jane Fonda thrown in. It’s all set to salsa music. Up until now salsa was something I used to mash avocado into.
So now I’m wondering why it’s taken me this long to try it. I’m also wondering why I have never even been to a dance class. Although I did try ballet as a youngster, but in the second class the teacher told us we were to dress as mice for our concert. As in, “you are not wearing a tutu.” That was reason enough to quit. I then wet my pants for good measure too, just in case they were desperate to keep me there. Take that, you mouse-costume-wielding tyrant.
Today’s class was full, and what a great bunch we were. Woman of all ages, shapes and sizes – from the supremely coordinated, to the so-not-blessed. And everyone had fun. In fact, you’d be hard pressed to find a group of total strangers having more fun together. Hmmmm, you’d better not misinterpret that last sentence. It’s not that kind of blog. Sorry.
I loved the fact that – ta daaa! – I didn’t stand out like a ready meal in Nigella’s kitchen. (With the exception of my squeaking trainers. Guess that’s to be expected after eight years.) There was always someone spinning around when they weren’t meant to be, usually smacking into the poor sod beside them. And the more flesh on your bones, the more you had to shake. And shake I did. Never in time to the music, and always with one foot wrong, but so what? What else is a generous bottom for? Again, that last bit is open to misinterpretation but let’s not go there people.
I’ll even admit to having visions of me as a Zumba instructor… smiling and cracking jokes as I effortlessly shake my arse in front of an appreciative audience. A quick glimpse in the mirror put those thoughts firmly to bed.
But it’s fun to dream.