Well, I'm back, and I seem to have survived my Zumba class. It was great fun. It's kind of like that end of night thing they do in Spanish hotels when they get everyone up on the stage and do some daft dances, only less chaotic, more structured and without the influence of Sangria.
The class was well enough paced so that I lasted the whole hour. I wouldn't say that I even mastered a quarter of the choreography, but I don't think that mattered. I also wasn't always on the same leg as everyone else, but I guess that as long as you're on one or the other, nobody really cares. I'm sure that I had not enough wiggle and way to much wobble but when you're moving to the likes of Shakira and Ricky Martin, you really can't help but smile.
I suspect that this is one of these exercises that, like a Margarita, feels innocuous at the time, but you know you've had it later. I can certainly feel it in my hips now.
The instructors Nadia and Cheryl were excellent, welcoming the fair few new faces who came along this morning and their enthusiasm and spirit was infectious.
I grinned like an idiot all the way through and an hour later still feel in a very good mood. I'm hoping to go back on Wednesday morning. Probably one of the most enjoyable £3 I've ever spent.