And it
kills me a little bit.
When
Nancy and I went to the baby Zumba class together, it was ace. I could keep up
with the routines, kind of. I knew the music, well who doesn’t know Tina’s Rolling on the River?
And to
top it off, two of the mum’s had asked me if I’d taken dance classes before.
That’s all the confidence boost I needed to be convinced, that,
yes, Zumba was the sport for me. And that, in months, if not weeks, Nancy would
no longer be able to knead my tummy like dough.
So it was
a bit of a shocker when Ulrika and I turned up to grown up Zumba, and it was
like watching a fitness video on fast forward.
The first
challenge was the routine. Now, I'm no Darcey Bussell, I did get an A in dance
A level, mind, (who takes dance A level?), but suffice to say that this was a
whole new realm of moves.
With boob
shaking, early 80's whooping, and samba legs going all over the shop, all to
full on Brazilian music, it was worlds away from the gentle dance off we'd done
at mum and baby Zumba.
It was a
bit of awake up call. I'm at the back of a Zumba class unable to keep up what I
thought was really complicated, fast steps, but turns out to just be the warm
up.
The second
challenge was the wall length mirror.
I genuinely didn’t
recognise myself to start with.
As I
scanned the slim, young women, searching for my reflection, I was more than a
bit surprised to see myself in an oversized red and white stripy nighty, and the
glasses I wear for driving. It was like looking at a middle aged Where's Wally. When did this
happen? When did I swap camps from
ticking the 20- 30 category, to the 34- retired?
I was
never uber trendy. But I think I used to be passable. When Ben and I were in
Thailand, a hippy told us we were the coolest people he’d ever met. I think he was on drugs at the time, but still.
And now
I'm closer in style, age and dance moves, to the middle-aged women who click
their fingers or swing their arms when the routine cranks up, instead of the
svelte, bendy sixth formers.
I don't
want to be the mum that Nancy cringes at at weddings, when I start doing my Man
in The Mirror impression, or know the whole Ice Ice Baby rap.
So. it's
time to man up. Knuckle down. Buy a sports bra. And learn the routines.
Otherwise
I might as well throw in the towel, and join the over 60's water aerobics
class.
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