The "Strictly Come Dancing" craze has completely passed me by so I can't tell a Rumba from a Samba. I last went to a dance class when I was 14 and I learnt how to "strip the willow", a technique I haven't found an opportunity to re-use in the intervening 40 years. When I was a teenager, admitting to having watched Come Dancing of a weekend was social suicide, but I must have done it a few times because the phrase "... and Doreen has sewn on every single sequin herself" is embedded in my memory. So did I go along today for Ballroom Fitness at
Gym and Jam? Yes I did. As a lure, Charlotte, the boss, sent me some research maintaining that dancing is the only physical (rather than mental) activity which offers protection against dementia and then, when I claimed to have two left feet, she threw in the line that "dancing is just walking with spice". Described like that, how could anyone refuse to give it a go. I know I promised photographs, but I was so fixated on Charlotte's bottom half for the whole 60 minutes that I didn't have chance to take any good shots, so you will just get a picture of what I watched.
I have never stared so intently at another lady's rear in my life.
We started with Rumba steps, moved on to Cha Cha Cha, Tango and finally Waltz. I can't pretend that it all went swimmingly, but I don't think I disgraced myself too badly. It was an amazing work-out and I'll be surprised if I don't have a few aching muscles tomorrow morning but I thoroughly enjoyed it and will be back again next week to see if I can get my hips swinging in time to the music, rather than two beats behind which I was managing today.
Posts
